


REAPER || minsung

by SQUISHSUNGS



Category: K-pop, Stray Kids (Band), Sunmi (Korea Musician)
Genre: Angst, Death, Fantasy, Fluff, Ghosts, Grim Reapers, M/M, Supernatural Elements, angsty immortal man x idiotic college student uwu, dumb ways to diiiieeee so many dumb ways to die, skz - Freeform, the author slowly losing sanity as the story drags on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 71,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29073093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SQUISHSUNGS/pseuds/SQUISHSUNGS
Summary: "I WILL PLEAD ON MY KNEES IF I MUST, BECAUSE I CANNOT LIVE LIKE THIS ANYMORE..."After serving the heavens as the Grim Reaper for about 400 years, Lee Minho never thought he'd stumble upon a case that was as peculiar as Han Jisung's.The problem?Han Jisung just couldn't die.The bigger problem?Minho wasn't sure if he hated that fact.crossposted on wattpad© SQUISHSUNGS
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin, Stray Kids Ensemble/Everyone
Comments: 25
Kudos: 35





	1. To live (verb)

To live (verb)

1\. To remain alive  
2\. To make one's home with a particular person

"A lot can still happen in your lifetime. Too bad I'm already dead, but for you I'd try living again"


	2. 1

22:00

He walked through the crowd, trying to avoid eye contact with any living creature. It was always busy on the city’s bridge; fitness attempts, tourists, casual strollers. Cold rain continuously fell from the sky like a bottomless bucket had been tipped over above the clouds. It was a horrible day to be out, yet people continued to buzz like a swarm of bees. The boy pulled his hat further over his head and stuffed his free hand in the pocket of his black coat that flowed after him like a dark aura.

What can we say, Lee Minho was an edgy Grim Reaper. Stylish, mysterious and an ace at his job.

Now you might think that the Grim Reaper was the figure wearing a black cloak with a scythe; to be honest, that had been ages ago and Minho cringed when he saw the images of it. He wore it once — never more —, because his dumb excuse of a friend, Hyunjin, had told him that's how reapers looked. He was young and inexperienced; a rookie in the field. To do something so cruel and embarrassing was just pure evil, but that was a little ironic coming from someone who took souls for a living.

Sighing Minho looked at the name on the paper in his hand. Cursive writing, clearly done with careless attention. Still, it was short and gave no room for protest or questioning:

_Han Jisung_   
_18 years old_   
_Dropping to death_   
_22:48 pm_

Disappointment crossed the Reaper's features; another young person was going to leave this world. Over time he had learned to deal with those tragedies. Over time he had also learned that death was merciless. Infants, toddlers, children. Teens adults, elderly. He had seen it all and more were able to drop his heart than to fill it with relief.

He looked at his watch, 22:13, he still had time. Minho picked up his pace, swiftly avoiding physical contact until something crashed into him. Or rather someone.  
There stood Kim Seungmin, strict, serious and with undeniable presence; his secretary and companion for over five decades. His cherry-shaded red hair kind of reminded Minho of their oh so joyous workplace, but he decided not to mention it. They had shared what for most could be a lifetime together. Tears and laughs, dreams and regrets; they were familiar as the back of their hands.

"Hello, mister Reaper," the young boy said, bowing slightly. "I see you already got the note, I'll schedule an appointment with Hyunjin to sort out the paperwork."

So basically I'm going to sort out the paperwork, Minho thought and sighed inwardly. He knew the angel only came for his 'adorable little secretary'. Minho didn't understand it, Seungmin was an evil little twat in his eyes, but he still cared about the brat somehow. Probably because he was good a sorting paperwork, or maybe because the redhead grew onto him in the past fifty-something years. Their relationship showed through subtle actions and lots and lots of borderline mean comments.

Seungmin had unexpectedly been dropped in Minho's workplace by Hyunjin. With a salute and a greeting and no further explanation. He had never left since and even though he was annoying and a know-it-all, the Reaper was grateful deep down.

"Seungmin," Minho called the boy's attention, tipping his hat over his eyes with a smirk. "Let's go do our job, I'm tired of staying out here with humans."

Seungmin smiled. "Yes, sir." He made a little salute with his hand and then grabbed the elder's. Minho, with quick cockiness, raised his eyebrows. He hopped on the bridge’s railing daringly. Leaning back, back, further… down they went, into a black mass, teleported away and invisible to the human eye.

<><><>

"No, no, no," Jisung muttered under his breath. He looked out of his window. His beloved plant was dying, the gift his family gave him for his new home after moving out. He missed his rowdy home, his loud brother, nagging mother and grumpy father. He put it on the balcony out of care, so it could catch organic rain instead of having to water it with chemicals. In reality there seemed to be an endless draught and winter was nearing.

The gray haired boy jumped off his chair, his earphones abandoned on the table. Even from there the trap beats were loud enough to wake his neighbors. He rushed to the door. "Charleston, don't die. Please, hang in there," he begged, ruffling over the shelf to look for the key. "Gotcha!" he yelled in victory, maybe a little too loud when he heard his neighbor Felix shout that he should 'shut the fuck up'. He was a little sensitive during the exam season. It was that once-every-semester event where Felix' usually sweet and bubbly self would wither under stress. Out of his ashes would rise a sleep-deprived monster that would growl at anything above seventy decibels.

Jisung apologized shortly and hurriedly unlocked the entrance to his really saddening balcony. "I'll save you, buddy, I promise." He slid over to the potted heap of misery. "Sweetie, I'm so sorry—"

And then he slipped. The ground underneath him disappeared and he fell backwards over the railing. He shut his eyes, accepting his cruel fate of his idiotic passing. His parents would curse him at his grave for being so dumb. Felix would find quiet. Charleston would be parentless.  
But then he stopped falling. He hung in mid air, watching the pavement’s tiles in microscopic detail. They started shrinking again. A force pulled him back before he landed in his room, face slamming into the floor. He sat up groaning, the earlier events not really processed. All he could think was: pain. He rubbed his forehead and looked around. There was someiting in the corner. His breath hitched; a tall dark figure watched him intently.  
Shadows surrounded the creature's — no it was definitely a man's — body making his face hard to see. The only thing visible were his deep onyx eyes, shining like an endless pool of misfortune and sadness.

Wait, Jisung suddenly realized, there was an unknown person in his room, and shadows were following him around like he owned them.  
His heart palpitated. He pressed his lips togetheras he slowly slid to the exit. He read that if you don’t break eye contact they’d feel intimidated. In reality he just couldn’t rip his gaze away from those pained eyes. He sneaked his hand around the knob.

"Oh… oh my god... FELIX SAVE ME!"


	3. 2

"Hello? Quick question; why on earth did you do that?!" Seungmin exclaimed, visible stress coating his face. He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up. It reflected his mental state quite accurately. This was against the rules _and_ it meant extra paper work. His boss was going to be the death of him. Well, if he wasn't dead already. Could you die twice? Who knew. Maybe Seungmin could find out.

Minho couldn't meet redhead's expectant gaze. He had the same question running his mind. Why the hell did he do that?   
"I—" _don't know,_ he wanted to say, but his pride never let him, cursing at him for even thinking that. "I-I couldn't let the kid die that way, that was the most stupid way a person can die! Isn't that a little saddening?!" Yeah, that's it, that was the reason. "Besides… he was still young too." 

"You let Chan die," the secretary stated dryly, scribbling his new tasks into his journal.   
  
"Well look at him now, he's the Head Angel. I did him a favor," Minho retorted, rolling his eyes. Smugly he turned to face the younger. "Being the Grim Reaper _and_ helping other's get employed on the side. They should raise my pay."

Seungmin exhaled through his nose and in a barely audible voice he said, "You let me die."   
  
"How many times do I have to tell you that I wasn't the one to take your soul," Minho replied, a helpless waver in his voice.   
  
"You still let me die, betcha it was because you didn't want to do the paperwork," Seungmin snapped and turned his chair away from the elder.

The Reaper pinched the bridge of his nose. This kid really got on his nerves sometimes — all the time. They'd been over the discussion multiple times over the last 50 years and it always ended up with both of them feeling absolutely miserable about their immortality and filled with guilt for blaming someone who had no reason to be blamed.   
  
"Seungmin, you were literally dumped in my office, I was perfectly fine doing my own paperwork." _No, I'm not please don't let me do it on my own,_ he mentally cried. A flashback played in which it was a chaos of clutter. Dates had been messed up, deadlines had been forgotten and 11 AM had been the reasonable time to start taking vodka-espresso shots – a state Minho wished he’d never find himself back in.

Seungmin huffed and crossed his arms. "And I don't even know about my life before death." He sat down at his desk and spun his chair so he wouldn't be facing his boss once again.

"It's for the best," Minho sighed and the conversation stopped there. He watched the back of the younger’s head, seeing the disappointment on his face through it. Truth was, nobody remembered their life before they died unless it was a punishment. Forgetting was a way of gifting them a clean platter to start their reincarnated life with. Minho himself wasn't even sure if he had actually died or if he had been selected only to collect lost souls. Perhaps it was both.

The redhead was obviously still pissed off about the whole thing, so without a word he skidded passed the soul taker and plopped down behind Minho’s desk, making sure to drop the stack of papers as loudly as possible. "Oh, Mr. Reaper, you've got a new note," Seungmin deadpanned, crossing his legs with a raised eyebrow. "Unless you decide their way of dying is too dumb too."  
  
A challenging look was set on his face and Minho knew he wouldn't get away with it if he did it again. Seungmin's wrath was the worst.

Minho cleared his throat, feeling a little intimidated by his secretary's irritation, he knew that if he did something to bother the boy, he would just add fuel to the fire. He only had the freedom to step out of line once every two days and his limit had been reached.   
  
"Uhm, please hand me over the letter."   
  
With a simple flick of his wrist, the fancy, gold coated envelope flew over to the Reaper's awaiting hand.

_Park Jaehyung_   
_26 years old_   
_Sickness_

"Come one, Seungmin, let's relieve this man of his suffering."

<><><>

Minho was seated at his desk with a few papers scattered in front of him. He ticked the pen past the points on them, then stuck the back of it between his teeth. Across sat a young man with blonde hair and kind but tired eyes, framed by round glasses. By merely looking into his eyes the Reaper could tell the man had lived, laughed and loved and left the earth with little regrets. "Sir," he started. "You have lived a good life, you've helped out lots. You’re very pure-hearted. Do you wish to have your memories erased?"

A confused look crossed the person's face "Uhm, excuse me, but why did I die? Not to sound rude or anything, but why? And please call me Jae, that 'sir' stuff's unnecessary. It makes me feel so old, you know?"

Minho nodded understandably. For the last part; he was ancient. If anyone should feel old, it was him. He massaged his temples. The first request was more problematic. Of course he would want to know. "Well, _Jae_ , you had food poisoning. You remember that pasta you cooked?" Jae only nodded. "Yeah, that expired two weeks ago. It was infected with bacteria. Your stomach had a hard time."

The blond dropped his head on the table. Minho nearly jumped out of character at the sudden bang.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," Jae muttered under his breath. "My mom should've never let me live alone."   
  
Okay, so maybe _one_ regret.

The Reaper couldn't help but silently chuckle at this. Morbid as it was, it was kind of hilarious. He then caught Jae stare at him, so he awkwardly cleared his throat and fixed his composure. "Back to the question, do you wish to erase your memories?"

A sad smile crossed the man's face. "I… well, I guess. I could start anew, maybe reincarnate with more brain capacity." He looked at his hands in his lap. "Could you please give me a moment? I just want to remember things for a while."

He could understand where he came from, but this rule only applied if you were to be reborn. Minho never was; he wandered the earth for over centuries, longing for his lost memories. At least Jae still got the option to remiss everything. Maybe Minho did too, after all, _he couldn't remember._

He wondered if he had been a good person, to end up being stuck in an immortality at the cost of human souls. For all he knew it could be that his living self was greedy for eternity. Perhaps he had feared death so much he had become it.

"Okay." Minho got snapped out of his thoughts and looked Jae in his eyes. "I think I'm ready." Jae sighed deeply and wiped away a stray tear. He leaned his head back to somehow send the tears back into his eyes. “Wow… this is embarrassing. I’m not usually a crier.”

The Reaper took the other's hands, not breaking eye contact. "It's okay to cry, you know. Leaving your loved ones behind is never easy."

The blond sniffled softly and nodded.

“Ready?” Getting another nod of approval, Minho said, "Okay let's get started."

Minho shut his eyes; all the memories, fond ones as well as sadder ones flashed by. From a first guitar lesson to his first breakup. Cringe-worthy memories of short-lived emo phases as a high school freshman to moving out for college. Then everything went blank. It was sad his life had ended at such a young age. 

It was definitely not the first time Minho had handled a younger person, nor was Jae the youngest out there. However, Minho liked to believe that in every passing there was a tragedy. Even if the person had reached a ripe, old age, there was always this desire to clear out the ‘what if’s. Regret was a basic human emotion. People regretted often; they regretted saying this, regretted not saying that. Regretted not going, regretted not staying in. It was a situation where no one could win. One or the other; they’d always wonder how the situation could’ve turned out better.   
  
The Reaper opened his eyes and smiled softly. "Let's get you to Heaven."

Together they walked toward a big wooden door. It was a plain, orange-tinted brown with minimal design; only geometrically ordered squares. Minho pushed it open, revealing a staircase on the right. It was dimly lit, the light coming from up and dispersing into an infinite black at the bottom.

"Thank you," Jae whispered and shook the other's hand. He smiled at him one last time. Then he left him behind, setting a foot on the first step.

Minho's eyes widened. "Wait! Jae! There's an elevator!"

He had already started walking. He was too far up to be able to hear him or come down again for that matter. Minho turned to his left and sighed, facing the elevator. Cobwebs and dust details shimmered in Heaven’s lighting.

"Why did we buy it if no one's going to use it anyway," he groaned. Slamming the door shut he turned, retreating back to his office.


	4. 3

_23:00_

"The fuck do you want," Felix grumbled, rubbing his eyes with much aggression. After he opened the door for his neighbor to come in he had immediately regretted it. He had intruded, flashing by at supernatural speed. Jisung was currently curled up on the Australian's couch with a blanket wrapped around him. The other grumpily sat down facing him.

Jisung peeped out from the fuzzy material that covered him like a burrito. "Felix, I think I've finally lost it," he mumbled hastily.

"And you thought of that just now?" The carrot head was beyond annoyed, he had things to do, such as essays. He knew he shouldn't have waited with those that long, but he did and he had absolutely no time for his sulking best friend. Only if said friend stated this as a code black or rainbow, but he hadn't, so it couldn't be that important.

To explain that, when they were younger – starting middle school? He wasn’t really sure – they thought they’d be quirky and fun if they used secret code that no one else could understand. In reality it wasn’t that hard to crack. Either their classmates were plain stupid or they hadn’t cared enough to even make an attempt.

"Sung, can you like, hurry up?" The Australian massaged his temples and groaned. It was too early for this, way too early. Truth was, he fell asleep on his homework and he had no sense of time or place, so for Felix it was morning. Your opinion is irrelevant. Worst part of that was; Felix was _not_ a morning person. Combining that with lack of sleep was the perfect recipe for a cranky, oversized child.

"My house is haunted." The older shuddered as he could still feel the chills run down his spine. "Why are laughing?! It's not funny, there was some demonic creature in my room?!" Jisung screeched, throwing one of the fluffy pillows at his friend. The Australian only laughed louder when he saw Jisung's offended face.

"Bro," he chuckled, wiping away some fake tears. "You really need to go out more." He had a point, Jisung never went out, unless it was for school or food. Scratch that, he always ordered food. Jisung only went out for school and even that he barely did. Jisung hadn’t ever been overly dedicated to studies, not had he been an angel in class. In fact; he had been so quiet that teachers wouldn’t even notice his absence and if they did he always had Felix to make up an excuse for him. Felix had always been the partner in Jisung’s one-sided crimes.   
  
"You've isolated yourself to the point of insanity," Felix continued. "Meet some new people, broaden your horizon. Socialization. Did you know humans need human contact or else they’ll actually die? You’re going to die if you keep this up."

Jisung huffed and crossed his arms. "I don't want to meet new people, people are scary."   
There was a long pause before Jisung decided to pick up the conversation again. "You know, if were speaking of dying anyway; I nearly died today."

Felix rolled his eyes at his best friend. He knew Jisung for a long time already, he was probably just being a dramatic brat again. He should’ve gone down the theatrical path instead of pursuing music. "Oh gee, what happened, Sung?" he asked sarcastically, placing his hands in front of his mouth worth an acting career. Maybe he was a little interested in what had happened to the other, but not enough to actually show any sincere sympathy.

"Well, my dearest Felix," Jisung drawled, annoyed by the lack of compassion the Australian was showing. "I almost fell off my balcony. Actually, now that I think about it, I did fall." He turned to sit crisscross apple sauce and rested his head on his hands, putting on his 'thinking face'.   
His eyes suddenly widened in realization. "Oh my god! Felix, I fell off a balcony! Am I dead?! Do I look dead to you?!"

"Can you _stop_ slapping yourself?" Felix groaned loudly. The elder's stupidity was way too much at the moment and Felix could feel a migraine building up. "Do you fucking feel dead?"

Jisung let out one last yelp after he pinched himself on his arm, which did in fact hurt like a bitch. "Nope, very much alive. Thank you for asking."   
He pouted and rubbed the sore spot.

"Well then, Jisung, I think it's time for you to go home." The Australian got up from his chair and pulled other boy up from the couch. "Maybe think about today's events." Felix started leading him to the doorway as Jisung stuttered in defense. "Maybe get some sleep too. I’ll give you a hug tomorrow. Love you, bye, take care!"

Then the door got slammed into the grey haired boy's face. "So much for having a best friend," he complained angrily and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pajamas. He kicked at the floor and dragged himself back to his own apartment, making sure to slam the door shut as loudly as he could. An evil smile crept onto his features when he heard his neighbor curse loudly at his shaking walls. Though it immediately dropped when his left-door-neighbor too threatened to file a complaint. Profusely apologizing he silently shut the door to his bedroom.

As soon as he did, though, the evil grin crept back on again in a joker-like manner. "Serves you right," he smirked as he made his way to bed. Maybe getting some sleep wasn't a bad idea.


	5. 4

_9:49_   
  


Minho stared at his reflection in the decorative mirror the study had. Its size took up about half the wall. He moved his hand, so did he. He turned his head, so did he. They were the same, but he didn’t recognize the person staring back. Only lost eyes ogled at him, looking black in the dim lighting. He eyed the figure up and down. That was him, but who was he really? He didn't know. He didn't know anything at the moment. Why he was so upset by the fact that he didn't know his identity, why he couldn't remember his family; he wished someone would tell him. In the past he tended to worry that he might not like the answer, but he couldn’t care less now. He wanted a clarification, even it would turn him into the antagonist of his story.

Those were his regular worries, the ones that had inhabited his head and built on his negative emotions. However, there was an intruder, a stranger dislodging the locals:

Why wasn't he able to reap Han Jisung's soul?

The Reaper was clueless and it was driving him insane. He didn't particularly enjoy his 'job', but it was the way it was and over the decades he had gotten quite good at it – of course, he wasn’t one to brag. Taking souls, telling them if they had a good life or if they had been horrible beings, erasing their memories as a reward, sending them to Heaven or punishing them forever. It was a boring routine. He couldn’t complain too much; it made a living after all.

While he physically paced back and forth, he mentally walked past the steps his job required, over and over and over.

It had become so simple to him, but _why_ wasn't he able to reap Han Jisung's soul?

When Minho arrived at his apartment he never expected that he wouldn't be collecting a soul, nor that he would be the reason that a person was still alive. It wasn't like he intended to do it, but it was like something had taken over his body. He never knew he saved a life until the moment after. He’d been trapped in a trans. The moment he saw the boy tip over, his mind had gone blank with only one message: don’t let it happen.

That opened a spot for the second intruder:  
  
What kind of effect did Han Jisung have on him, what kind if power did he hold?

Countless of questions flooded his mind, but he had no answers. They were whispers only he could hear and that was the greatest torment of all. Minho yelled in frustration and dug his hands in his hair.

"Oh, uh, I think it’s better if I come back some other time."  
  
Seungmin stood in the doorway, together with a lean boy. Tousled black hair and pouty lips carrying a discomforted grin.

Seungmin rolled his eyes. "It's fine, Hyunjin," he grumbled and pushed the boy in the room, though his hand lingered on his back a little longer than was necessary. In a softer tone he continued, "We don't have to reschedule, that would be too much work."

Hyunjin cleared his throat, visibly very awkward. "So, I was sent here by Chan to do some research for him. Would you like to explain what happened yesterday?" He sat down on the couch close to Minho's desk. He crossed his arms and legs, waiting for the Reaper's reply. “Is it a long story? Do I need to take notes?”

“No need to get so cocky.” Minho sighed and pursed his lips. He knew what the angel was talking about. He was surprised at how fast news traveled, especially since they from above had been ignoring all his visiting requests. "I really don't know what came over me, I have been trying to figure it out myself, but I have made no process." He folded his hands over his neck and sighed. "I'm so confused right now," Minho answered, defeated. "Everything seems out of place."

The two others silently observed the raven haired boy as he sat there in utter defeat. Of course he had his down days every now and then. Truthfully he had more down days than happy days, but never before had they witnessed something like this. Minho had been naturally melancholic and cynical, but this was the first time they’d seen him off-track.

"Are you okay?" Hyunjin asked to break the awkward silence that filled the room. "I mean, if you couldn't collect his soul yesterday it means another note will come again today. If God wants him to die, he… must..." The angel started to trail off toward the end of his conclusion, fiddling with his hands. Working with dying or dead people could honestly bust your mood for the rest of the day. Or existence, but that was a topic for another time.

Seungmin cleared his throat rather loudly. "Okay," he stated, gathering everyone’s attention. "You didn't get any notes for today yet, sir, but I'm pretty sure Hyunjin has some other things to do in Heaven." The redhead turned to look at the latter. "How's Jae doing?"

"Jae's fine?" Hyunjin answered, though it sounded more like a question. "He's a good guy, a little awkward maybe, but I think he'll be reborn really soon. He’s been a blast to have around. He’s been playing guitar and singing with all the other souls. I wouldn’t mind having him around a little longer."

Minho nodded, but his mind was clouded by insecurities and uncertainties. He was distracted by a certain boy with grey hair and chubby cheeks and by the fact that the Reaper felt absolutely hopeless and powerless around especially him.   
  
He the dark shadows licked his skin, clinging to him like leeches. The room started to dim and drop in temperature. The lights sparked, flickered, till all traces of light and liveliness disappeared into his void.

Hyunjin and Seungmin shared worried glances. "Is he okay?" Hyunjin inquired franticly. Without noticing he took a step toward the younger boy and took his arm. He leaned into him as the shadows closed in on them. "Seungmin, what's happening?"

Seungmin's expression turned even grimmer at the question he was just asked. "Well," he whispered unsurely, "sometimes, when he gets stressed or confused, he turns like this. His powers get out of hand."

A chilly wind howled in the room, ravishing all the papers and books. Ice crystallized on the windows and everybody in the room felt a tingling feeling of déjà vu come over them.

The feeling that death was nearby.

Minho, as much as he hated it, was the embodiment of death, something which Seungmin and Hyunjin forgot often, with his cocky personality and witty remarks.   
Minho and death came as a combo pack, if he came to visit you, it meant you were going to leave this world.

The temperature kept dropping and the room was now pitch black. An unidentifiable scream cut through the air, then another and another. It was an endless trail of screeching banshees.   
  
Hyunjin's eyes widened in fear as he continued to cling onto Seungmin, who was eyeing his friend's concerning behavior.

"Minho?" Seungmin said hesitantly. He gently took Hyunjin’s hand off him, motioning that he would go take care of it and that it would all be alright. He shuffled in the direction of the boy. "Please, snap out of it, you're scaring us." He carefully placed his hand on his elder's shoulder. "Hello, communication?"

When he felt the touch, Minho snapped out of his trance. "God damnit!" he swore loudly, slamming both his fists on his desk.  
  
Both Hyunjin and Seungmin jumped. Hyunjin let out a loud yelp and fell down on the floor in a backward motion. In a high-pitched strain he prayed for Chan to summon him back to heaven.

"Dear Chan up above, take me please," he whispered rapidly and folded his hands together. "Minho's being scary again and I don't like it." He shut his eyes tightly and curled up into a ball as the wave of darkness flew over him.

"Minho can you fucking stop!”Seungmin suddenly yelled out. “Pull yourself together! Is this kind of state going to solve the problem?”

Everything went silent, the wind stopped, the lights turned back on. Even Hyunjin dared to peep open an eye Seungmin rarely cursed. He was the one who remained cool and collected under any circumstance. No pressure could crack Kim Seungmin.

"I get it that you're getting all angsty about everything, but please," the secretary let out a deep breath and massaged his temples, "don't manipulate the shadows. What if you broke something? Who's the one who needs to fix that stuff?"

Minho looked down in embarrassment. "You," he mumbled softly and played with his fingers. Even though Seungmin was younger, when he got angry it was _scary._ His usually soft gaze and subtle smiles would be replaced by a stone-hard glare and tightly clenched jaw.

Seungmin raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. "Who now?"

"Seungmin."

“Exaclty,” the redhead agreed. “I’m begging you; do not give me extra work. I will cry if I get any extra task.”

Minho wished he could drift off to Hell in embarrassment, Heaven wasn't exactly an option for him anymore. He covered his red face with his sleeves and slipped down his chair, joining the angel on the floor. They were both – painfully – reminded who really was the powerhouse of their cell.   
  
"Is this how the lowest moment in your life feels?" he asked the other boy.

Hyunjin shrugged. He flapped his arms in an attempt to make the shame flutter away. It was unsuccesful. "Yeah, guess so," he replied, accepting their defeat.


	6. 5

_10:34_

"Felix can't I just-"   
  
"No."   
  
"It's totally reasonable if you just-"   
  
"No."   
  
"Please, Lix hear me out-"

"No, Jisung, you are _not_ moving in with me," the Australian stated. He had his hand on the knob, ready to smack the door into his best friend's face. The homework he procrastinated on was eerily calling his name from behind. He was going to break out in tears. “Why did you even think you can? This is a one-person apartment. The landlady will kill us.”

“We could bribe her,” Jisung offered.

“No,” Felix sternly replied, “We are not going to break the law.”

Jisung’s face fell, as did all the luggage he was carrying. Shirts and jeans were scattered on the floor. Meanwhile the boy just stood there in disbelief, mouth hanging open in the shape of an 'O'. "But I thought we were besties! Is it because you don't want to be caught with your boyfriend?"

He teasingly raised his eyebrows. “If that’s the case I won’t kick up a fuss anymore. I’ll leave you be and you two can be happy happy together.” 

"Pff, Chang- I mean what boyfriend?" Felix tried to save himself from exposing himself like that, but it was too late. Jisung's smirk only grew and a glint that was definitely up to no good could be seen in his eyes.

Jisung clapped his hands, skipped over to the ginger and flung an arm around his neck. "Chang-something huh? Care to elaborate? Maybe drop the name already?"   
Jisung wiggled his eyebrows and invited himself in, brushing past the actual owner of the apartment.

Felix sighed in disappointment and gathered all the things that were left forgotten on the floor. Once he reached his living room, he noticed Jisung had once again claimed the couch as his own and hadn't left any space for Felix to sit.

“He really wouldn’t mind having you around,” Felix said, kicking his friend’s legs out of the way. After a small protesting whine, Felix at last got his seating space. “Sung, in all honesty, I care about you a lot. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not pushing you out. I want you to be a little more independent.”

“I’m living on my own, I pay my bills,” Jisung responded, “If that’s not independence, then what is?”

“I mean… Jisung, you’re… quite a handful… sometimes,” Felix careful said. He watched the boy’s face intently, though there wasn’t exactly a trace of any change of expression. Only a short nod.

“Did it bother you a lot?” Jisung asked with a small smile. “I don’t know that many people… You’re the only one I can speak comfortably with.”

“It’s… You’ve been living in this safe bubble,” Felix mumbled, laying his head on Jisung’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt once it bursts.” 

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” Jisung waved it off. “The world is cruel, I am well-aware. I don’t think the shock will be as bad as when I accidentally bleached all my clothes in the washing machine.”

“That was dumb,” Felix retorted. “For real, it was spelled out for you on the packet in big bold letters. Have you had your eyes checked recently?”

Jisung pursed his lips at the memory, flinching at the vivid scenes replaying in his head. His big pink hoodie… no…

"So, mister Lee Felix," the grey haired boy instead drawled. "I heard you were dating someone and didn't even care to tell me, your best friend."

Felix ran his hands through his hair in frustration. So much for having a heartfelt conversation. His ears tinted red.

“Aww, look at his little elfie ears,” Jisung giggled, poking at his pierced lobe. “Is it embarrassing? You guys must’ve had loads of fun together.”

Felix let out a high-pitched cry, hiding his face in the hem of his shirt. "Oh my fucking god... Get out!"

Jisung screamed as Felix grabbed him by his feet and pulled him off the couch in the direction of the door. He tried to squirm his way out of the Australian's grasp, but Felix had the strength of shame on his side. There was no way that Jisung’s weak, noodle limbs could fight him off.

"Wait, no stop!" he shrieked, slapping at Felix' hands. "I was going to leave anyway! I need to go to work! Lee Felix, you bitch!"

"Bye, Jisung." The younger of the pair waved shortly with a tight smile. Once again, the door banged back into the lock.

Jisung remained seated on the floor. His brain was turning around the events, processing what on earth just happened. "Why do you hate me?!" he cried out when it all clicked and scrambled up again to make his way back home. "It's not like I didn't hear you! The walls here are as thin as fucking paper and you're loud as fuck!"

<><><>

_13:45_

"What are you thinking about?" Jisung's coworker, Changbin, asked and took a seat next to him while sipping his coffee. The library was awfully quiet and nearly empty, except for two students who were sleeping on their textbooks. “Also, what happened to you hair? As far as I know, squirrels have been pretty quiet about now.”

"Nothing much," Jisung responded and continued to stare at the stack of books in front of him. “Please don’t remind me. I got an exclusive makeover from my ex-friend.”

He glared at the wall, pressing the tip of his pen into the front desk with twists and turns. Changbin’s eyes widened in mild panic when he saw a deep dent forming. For someone that scrawny and tiny-looking Jisung had a lot of hidden strength. 

Changbin slowly nodded. "You don't want to talk about it," he stated as a matter of fact. Chills ran down his spine when the pen drilled down a new layer of wood, "but that's okay, just come to me when you're ready. I'll be there for you if you need me."   
  
He then hurriedly downed the last bits of his drink. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll take these books to their place. I think Jeongin is already waiting at your usual table. I heard he's having some difficulty with his English and complaining about it a lot."

Jisung only mumbled a small 'okay' and dragged his feet toward his destination. Once he got there, he was met with a young boy face-planting his textbook. His red hair was scattered all over the place and he clearly wasn't enjoying studying or studying at all. He was muttering things under his breath about absorbing the information through contact. Jisung was slightly reminded of himself back in his high school days. Clearly he wasn’t the best educational tutor one could get, but as long as it paid his rent and kept Mrs. Lee off his back, he would continue living the lie.

Jisung chuckled at the sight and cleared his throat. "Jeonginnie, how's school treating you?"

The other boy shot up, fox-like eyes widening. "You wouldn't _know_ how horrible it is," the younger groaned. He pouted and lay flat out on the table again, this time with his arms stretched over the edge. "I think they want me dead."

"Even I survived," Jisung said while opening an English textbook, "so I'm sure that you will too. High school is just temporary, don't fret too much."

“Temporary but I still gotta pass,” Jeongin sighed, visibly deflating into his seat like a popped balloon.

“Do you want a cheat sheet?” Jisung questioned, though there was this monotonous sarcasm lacing his voice. Sadly, Jeongin was a hopeful thinker.

The high schooler smiled, dimples appearing on his cheeks. "You're the best! Now can you help me with English? Pronunciation is hard."  
  
The younger stared down at his book in confusion with a deep frown as he tried to understand what on earth everything meant. It looked like hieroglyphs and he didn’t own a Rosetta Stone to crack the code.

"What are we looking at?" Jisung questioned and dragged a chair over to the table. "Oh, I honestly don't know why they think we need to know this. Who even is going to ask you to describe a circus?!"

"I know right! Nobody is going to ask you 'what is an elephant?'" Jeongin exclaimed and squished his cheeks. "Hasn't everyone seen _Dumbo_ as a kid?! Did you even have a childhood if you didn't?!"

"Hey, no shouting, children," Changbin scolded as he suddenly popped up from behind a shelf. "We're still in a library and some of us come here for peace and quiet."

"Oh come on!" Jisung shouted, though immediately shrunk under Changbin’s pointed gaze. He pointed over the desk, where an old lady had now taken a seat and was glaring at them from over her half-moon glasses. Jisung raised a hand and bowed. His low-hanging head hid the pained grimace.   
  
He continued in a lower volume, "Even you must've had your frustrations with high school. If you say you don't have some passive aggression towards your teachers, you're a liar," the grey haired boy said with a knowing look.

Changbin placed down his stack of books and pushed up his glasses. He then scurried over to where the others were sitting. "Okay, so I had this one teacher and she was such an ass," he whispered and shortly scanned the place, making sure the woman wasn't anywhere near them. When he saw that the coast was clear he turned back to the boys. "She would make us go on trips, but she would mention it the day before. If you had any plans, who the hell cared. It was horrible and– "

Jisung should've kept his mouth shut. He regretted saying anything about it to his coworker. After two and half an hour – trying his best to educate Jeongin through the endless ranting – he had enough of Changbin's high school drama. He pushed his chair back and stood up. "I think I need to get home, since my shift is over.” Out of his pocket he took a crumpled grocery list. He signaled at the pen in Jeongin’s hand. He then scribbled down a(n illegal) exam training website. “Goodbye, Innie, good luck at school.”

His eyebrows flashed up knowingly when Jeongin’s mouth broke into a blinding grin. He made a zipper motion, to which the younger stuck up a thumb. He then patted Changbin on the shoulder. “Changbin, I think you need to talk about your problems a little more. Text me, okay?"

The boy then fled to the the front desk, purposely ignoring the elder’s whining. Jeongin would have to deal with him on his own now; not his problem. He rested his head in his hands. “Hi, Mrs. Yoon!”

“Jisung,” the woman greeted back, “how are you going home now?”

“By foot although… When did the weather turn that bad?” he asked, ogling out the glass that made up the front of the library. “I remember the sun shining this morning. Perhaps I should take the bus–”

Mrs. Yoon interrupted him, “Should I lend you my umbrella?”

“No, it’s alright!” He quickly covered his mouth when the woman shushed him. “A little rain won’t make me melt.”   
  
As if to prove it, he zipped up his jacket and covered his mouth with his collar, stuffing his hands in his pockets. With a short wave he exited through the spinning door. It was in the middle of fall, the wind was harsh. Trees bended backwards as it blew. Jisung sunk into his jacket even further when he was hit by another gust. When did the weather get like this? He squinted his eyes, trying to actually see his environment.

A distant engine humming invaded his ears. The wind had really come for his hearing, he thought, making him believe it sounded like an engine. However, it seemed to be coming closer, closer and then the undeniable sound of tires screeching against asphalt.   
He froze. His feet had been nailed to the concrete. Like a deer caught in headlights he waited for the impact to end him. 

  
  



	7. 6

_16:22_

There was a discomforting weight resting in Minho’s shoes. The moment he walked past the library, his gut told him something was off. He lured through the big glass window. The figure at the second table between the educational section and YA literature; his eyes could tell who it was, yet his mind tried to convince him he was once again seeing things. Something was _very_ wrong. His suspicions turned out to be correct when a note whirled down from the sky. His stomach churned when he read the name.

Han Jisung had once again squirmed his way into Death's grip. 

"Car accident," Minho mumbled to himself while examining the burnt looking paper in his hand. He rested it in his open palm, watching it crumble into ashes. "Car accidents are always so gory." He scrunched his nose in disgust. "Can't let him die that way," he shrugged and lowered his hat.

As the ravenet heard the honking of the car and the ear-bleeding screech of tires, he told himself it was time to step in. He morphed into the shadows, letting his body disintegrate into cold, black smoke. In his physic-less shape he dove into Jisung’s direction, embracing him like a protective capsule.   
  
Darkness engulfed the grey haired boy. He felt safe in a really strange and scary way. It felt as if firm arms were wrapped around his body to make sure he wouldn't get hurt.

That was until he was harshly dropped on the sidewalk, leaving nasty scrapes on his knees and huge cut on his left cheek. He groaned as his hands were contemplating on which injury to shield from the world.

The Reaper took solid form again. He leaned arrogantly against a wall. With a lazy flick of the wrist and a yawn, he stopped the van that obviously had some trouble with the breaks. He inspected his fingers, hissing to himself when he noticed one of his rims had been ripped. He dropped his arm, watching the scene ahead of him unfold.

The driver quickly rushed out; an elderly man was frantically asking if the younger was alright and examining every corner of his body. He hastily apologized again, excusing himself to call a tow truck. He asked if an ambulance was necessary too, but Jisung only smiled politely and assured he was alright.

"You did it again."   
  
Minho let out a _very_ manly scream and grabbed his chest. He was met with the pissed off face of his secretary. He had noticed that he’d been seeing that exact expression – a scowl with downwards turned lips – too often for his own good lately.

Seungmin was enraged, his hands curled into fists, ready to punch Minho right in the nose. "I already told you not to and you still do whatever the fuck you want." He squeezed the elder’s cheeks looking completely lost. "You absolute moron, you shouldn't mess with the Gods' plans. I’m getting overworked because of you."

Minho, who had now recovered from shock, smiled sweetly and placed his finger on the younger's lips. "Hush now, sweetheart, we'll figure it out later. I only have one mental breakdown scheduled for today."

The redhead grit his teeth. "If you don't remove your hand, I'll bite you. Try me, you ass."   
  
The Reaper sent a challenging look in the younger's direction, but quickly removed his hands when he heard a low growl come from the latter together with a insinuation of a bite.

"I'm already dead, you can't kill me, Seungminnie," he hurriedly reminded him with a painful grin. "Now I think I need to check on our beloved Jisung. I dropped him. That wasn’t nice."

Minho turned around swiftly, throwing the lower end of his coat behind him. He crossed the road to the other side, tipping the hat up slightly. After he made sure the other male could see him, he collected all his courage and put on a feign look concern. "Oh no! Are you alright?!" he shouted and used his best fake acting skills. He gasped when he saw the cut on Jisungs cheek that he obviously wasn't the cause of, both hands covering his hanging mouth.

Jisung was not impressed. He had his lips pressed into a thin line and a glare piercing the other man's skull. "Excuse you, mister, but if you're going to pretend to care, could you at least act a little better?"  
  
The boy quickly covered the wound on his face and swiftly got back up. "Goodbye, kind sir."

"No, wait!" Minho spluttered, "are you really okay? I got some bandages in my pocket."  
He fumbled around his jacket and smiled proudly when he found what he was looking for.

Jisung’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why… do you carry that in your… jacket?”

“You never know when humanity could be in need of a band-aid,” Minho replied coolly. He looked like a weird now. A psychopath who hurt people and then offered them aid. Classic.

Jisung raised his eyebrows. "Why do you care so much? You obviously didn't give a shit like," he quickly looked at his phone, "three minutes ago."   
  
He took a step forward and inspected the Reaper intensely, scanning him from top to bottom. Jisung crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one leg. "You look sketchy, what's with the hat and the long coat?"

“Fashion.” Minho cleared his throat awkwardly, leaning back a bit. He was definitely not used to physical contact and the younger breathing in his face was making him feel highly uncomfortable.  
  
"If-if you don't mind," he stuttered. He wanted nothing more than to vanish into thin air, "could you please step out of my personal space?"

"Hmph, fine," Jisung huffed. He turned his body away from the other male with a pout. "You know, you seem familiar. I've seem you somewhere before." The grey haired boy squinted his eyes, trying to think where he could possibly have seen such a creep.

Minho smiled an uneasy smile, holding up the band-aid with two hands. "Haha, I don't think so. Really don't need it? Well, I think you do it's a pretty bad cut, yeah," he rambled on while fumbling with the plaster in his hands. "Yep, you definitely need it."

He smacked it on Jisung's face, leaving the younger in shock, eyes wide due to his surprise. "Goodbye, clean your wound later. Don't want infections, now do we, haha."

Just like that the Reaper ran off into a close-by alleyway. He disappeared from sight, melting into the shadows.

"What the fuck," Jisung mumbled to himself, unconsciously holding his cheek. He then shrugged it off and continued to make his way home, too tired to think about what happened.

Both of them never noticed a certain librarian peeping around the corner. He lifted his glasses off the bridge of his nose rubbing his eyes. His intuition had been correct. It seemed he would be meeting him again soon. "Seo Changbin, what have you gotten yourself into?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just noticed that the chapters at the top look a lil... confusing?? i'm sorry, i'm not that great at thinking of chapter titles :/


	8. 7

"Real slick, I'm _so_ impressed," Seungmin drawled and applauded sarcastically. He dragged every vowel in his sentence, circling the elder as he continued clapping. “What a way to handle.”

"What does 'slick' even mean?" Minho grumbled and ruffled his hair. "You know what, I'm going home, you're in charge for the rest of the day."

Seungmin's mouth dropped. "What do you mean 'you're in charge'?" he exclaimed in a panicked tone. "And Urban Dictionary, all modern language will be explained."

Minho took out his phone. His face dropped and he sighed in displeasure. "Is this what you do during working hours?" he deadpanned. "Then it's good that you'll make up for that today. If you wanted to fit in with today's youth I would've just sent you to high school."

"No, please– " The redhead's eyes widened when Minho brushed right past him, knowing very well that he had just been blatantly ignored. Rude. “Before you go I have a question.”

“What?” The Reaper finally acknowledged the younger’s existence.

“Was that your way of making a move? ‘Cause if it is, you’re going to stay single forever,” Seungmin reached after him when he started packing up. “No! Stop! I’m just trying to give some advi–“

"I'm heading out.” He saluted like a soldier. “Work hard, Seungminnie."

He wiped out the younger's calls of complaint and shut the door behind him.

<><><>

After unlocking the door to his home and kicking off his shoes, Minho made his way to his room to change into some more comfortable clothes. Yes, he had some divine powers, but a measly task as changing clothes still had to happen by hand. It was always the lousiest and most mundane tasks that couldn’t be magiced away.

The Reaper made his way to the living room while still pulling the hoodie he got over his head, but when he a familiar figure sitting on _his_ couch he let out the most ungodly screech.   
"What are you doing in _my_ house?!" he yelled, readying his fists for a fight he was willing to start. He looked at the curly haired angel in disgust, forcing out an answer with his stare.

The male grinned innocently, revealing his dimples. "Come on, Minho, we're all friends here."

"Lying is a sin, Chan" the boy deadpanned. He was not having any of this shit on his day off. His first free day in more than a century and it was not going to be ruined by that so-called 'friend'.

Chan untangled himself from the pillow fort he'd built up around him and skipped over to the other, teasingly wrapping his arms around him. "I can stay for a while, right? You love me and I love you."

Minho glared at him, only to be met with a pair of gleaming and expectant eyes.

"Ugh fine," he finally gave in, not after letting out some strangled protests. "Yes, Chan, it's fine! Get off me already!"

The Head Angel opened up his arms, so Minho took that as the chance to rediscover freedom. Dramatically he clutched his chest, breathing heavily as he dropped to his knees.

"Dramatic ass," the blond muttered, though his lips curved up into a smile.

"You say as if you don't know me," Minho retorted, dusting off his pants. He dropped onto his other sofa, going starfish mode. He pulled up his hood and tugged the strings. At least he could hide from the world this way. “How did you get in?” he asked, mainly to will away the thoughts.

“Through the window,” “I think you need to get your locks checked.”

While Chan rambled on about the best way to fix locks and the ways they got picked by burglers, Minho’s mind wandered off to earlier events of that day. Walking, note, Jisung. Jisung… He had proved himself a fool once again. Seungmin was right. There was no hope for Minho and love.

 _Fuck existence_ , he thought. _What have I done to myself_. _Fucking piece of shit soul of a god damn cretin._

"Rough day?" Chan asked, prying open the boy's barrier with his fingers. "Even so, calling someone a 'cretin' isn't going to solve it."

Minho shot up in disbelief, while Chan shot back to avoid collision. "You don't just read a person's mind," he exclaimed and grabbed his head, as if that would stop his thoughts from reaching the blond. "That's just very impolite and inhumane."

"I think calling it 'inhumane' is a little far-fetched," Chan laughed from the floor. Crossing his legs, tilting his head, he asked: "Why are you out so early by the way? It can't be that there aren't any people dying today."

Minho sighed and buried his head in his hands. "Things have just been really hard recently," he mumbled sadly, “and don't worry, I left Seungmin in charge."

Chan's eyes widened. He dashed over to the other side of the room, squishing Minho's face with his hands. "Don't worry?! You left Seungmin in charge, you said! Seungmin is never to be left in charge!" The angel then cleared his throat and patted the Reapers head. "And please tell, what has been bothering you? Your feelings most definitely matter too, sweetie."

"Seungmin is not irresponsible," Minho stated with raised eyebrows. It was quite obvious that he was dodging his friend's question, but he hoped it was subtle enough for the latter not to notice.

"That's true," Chan eventually agreed with a curt nod, "but he can be very sly and manipulative. I'm honestly not shocked that he's the one who was sent to you and that we got Hyunjin."

"What's the point of you getting Hyunjin if he always hangs out with us anyway. The boy is head over heels for Seungmin." Minho laughed to himself, but quickly composed himself. “I think the biggest danger of leaving Seungmin in charge is that Hyunjin won’t be getting any work done.”

“True true,” Chan agreed. Then he turned serious again, "but really, what's wrong?" Chan inquired with a straight face and earnest tone. "We asked our little messenger after he returned, but he was too traumatized to speak of it."

Minho groaned in frustration. "Yeah? Well I'm too tired to talk about it. I'm going to the convenience store. Do you want anything? No?"

Before anyone could have stopped him, the door was slammed shut.   
Minho always ran away from his problems, it was one of his greatest flaws and he was fully aware of it. He knew it was bad, but facing problems was one of the scariest things to him. How was talking about feelings supposed to solve the conflict? 

Simple, it didn't; so there was no point doing so.

Talking would be like ripping open his flesh; all of his layers exposed for all to see. His core would be a tar black that would scare off anyone who knew too much and as hostile as Minho had put himself up to be; once a few stubborn exemptions had decided that his personal space was free real estate, he feared that if they would leave he would lose himself. He couldn’t afford losing himself, not again.

The Reaper's chain of thoughts was brutally broken once he was met with the flashing sign of the store. An obnoxious neon green like venom to the eyes. He entered; an even more obnoxious bell signaled his presence. He didn't necessarily need anything, but since he was avoiding a conversation, the boy hoped that staying out here long enough would make his friends forget about it.   
If they forgot about it, then he could also drop it and hope the difficulties he feared would die down too.

He greeted the shop worker with a timid 'hi' and scurried over to the snack isle. Minho distractingly glanced at all the unhealthy goods in front of him. If there was anything that could momentarily numb the emotions, it had to be stuffing junk into his body. With a critical gaze he compared the different types of sweets he could possibly choose from, until his eyes landed on a familiar mop of grey hair sticking out from under his oversized pink hoodie.

The Reaper sucked in a deep breath to calm his nerves and collect his courage. But why was he nervous? Lee Minho was never nervous, others felt nervous in his presence. This was wrong.

"Hey, how's your face? Did you clean the cut?" he asked with his usual confidence.

The called boy spun around so quickly that it might have caused a whiplash. Surprise was shown on his features, but that quickly turned into dismay when he saw who had asked.   
"Oh, it's you," he seethed. "At least you sound like you genuinely care about it right now."

The Reaper looked down guiltily. "I know it didn't really sound truthful, but I am sincerely concerned about you."

From the corner of his vision he noticed the uneven dispute on color in the boy’s outfit. The pinks ranged from clear, to faded to non-existent. Minho’s memories unconsciously traveled back to the rise of the Tie Dye era. The obnoxious 60s. Minho had to admit he had hopped on the trend too, but he wasn’t too sure if sweaters were allowed to be tie-dyed too. 

Jisung scoffed, which caused Minho to look up. He gasped when he saw that the plaster was the same one he had slapped on messily. "You haven't taken care of it at all! Let me help!"

He grasped the younger's wrist and dragged him toward the pharmacy section. He grabbed some the things he might need and shoved them in Jisung's hands.   
"I think that's about it," Minho smiled, satisfied. "Give it to me, I'll pay for it. Go sit down somewhere."

"No, I can't-" Before the boy could finish his sentence, the taller had already snatched the supplies from him and hobbled off to the cashier.

Defeated Jisung dragged himself to a table close to the window and collapsed on the chair with a pout. What a stupid headass, so determined to take care of him. Too determined if you’d asked him. He was legally an adult, he didn't need this.  
Above that fact however, stood another one; they shared no relationship whatsoever. They hadn’t even exchanged names and their first encounter couldn’t be labeled a pleasant one. Yet he didn’t mind the way he cared for him. It was a genuine concern he’d seen on his face, not like the almost obligatory question of how he was doing.

He’d be damned if he’d admit he wasn’t alright. It was a social construct to answer with an ‘I’m fine’ or ‘doing okay’, because people didn’t know how to react if it wasn’t that programmed reply. They wouldn’t want to react to it. They themselves had enough hidden problems, so dealing with those of another wasn’t something lots were open too. He sighed, rubbing his bangs out of his eyes.

When he saw the stranger appear again he sat up straight again, fixing his composure. "I want to pay you back," he stated as a matter of fact.

"Well, you could make it up to me by looking after yourself more," the other retorted while applying some disinfectant on a cotton. "Take off the band-aid, please."

The grey haired boy did as he was told and glanced at the Reapers gleaming eyes that were fixed on his cut. "It's going to sting, but you'll survive."  
  
Jisung nodded and bit on his lip, feeling the sting on his cheek and the male's hot breath in his neck. What in the world was this situation and why was he enjoying it? His eyes widened at the thoughts running through his mind. He hadn’t gotten his name yet. He also didn’t know if he was a psychotic murderer. However – without the extravagant mode style one would encounter on the Harajuku streets – he looked like a regular guy who wasn’t a masochist. 

The man gently put on a fresh band-aid. "There, all done," he exclaimed, proud of his work. "Wait, I haven't even introduced myself yet. My name is Lee Minho."   
He stuck out his hand, waiting for the other to shake it.

"I'm-" The shorter took his hand with a sly grin. "Sike! You really thought I'd give you my name that quickly?" Jisung cackled evilly. "See you soon, Lee Minho. Thank you, you're not as creepy as I thought. I'll pay you back somehow, I promise."   
  
He swiftly got up from his seat and left the store.

The elder was left dumbfounded and waved after the boy unsurely. "Sike?"


	9. 8

_9:30_

"Good morning, Seungmin," Minho nodded when he entered their office. He swung his coat over the backrest. "What's popping? What's the latest tea?" He grinned at his secretary and sat down proudly, crossing his arms and leaning back into his comfy chair.

Seungmin looked up from his work. He blinked a few times, most likely waiting for his brain to tell him he was having a fever dream. No, his head said, this was reality. He sighed and squinted at the raven haired boy. "Did you just… use slang?" he asked seriously.

Minho frowned. “Why? Did I make a mistake?”

“Your existence is a mistake,” Seungmin retorted. His expression looked as if he had just taken a bite out of a lemon.

“That hurt me,” Minho grumbled, grabbing onto his shirt with all the feign pain he could muster.

“Good,” Seungmin commented, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm so disappointed, even Hyunjin doesn't match up to this. At least he does it ironically."

"I heard that!"   
  
The pair shot up, completely shaken, when they suddenly heard a certain angel's voice boom through the room.

"Does… does he really listen our conversation from all the way in Heaven?" Minho questioned, still a little baffled by the sudden situation.

His hands slowly wrapped themselves around the top of his head. If Hyunjin could also eavesdrop on thoughts, then at least he could be somewhat prepared. While on his ‘internet journey’ he had seen people make tinfoil hats to stop aliens from taking their brains; perhaps that was an option.

Seungmin put his hands up, as if to say 'I don't know' with his lips curled down. Following that up he inhaled deeply. That confused Minho even more. The only times Seungmin breathed deeply was when he was counting to ten to stop his temper from getting the best of him.

"Hyunjin! Stop being so sensitive and creepy! Privacy is appreciated!" the redhead suddenly screamed at the top of his lungs.

The Reaper decided to curl up over whatever was asked of him that day. Vaguely he heard Hyunjin yell something about Seungmin being a 'stupid brat'. His day was already ruined by their loudness. He even learned some modern language to maybe impress his coworker, but alas, his efforts have been brutally neglected. Minho banged his head on his desk, his job absolutely sucked and there was no way of getting out of it. As time passed, the bickering worsened and slowly did he get more agitated by the two kids. He turned his head to face his favorite younger.

"Seungmin, if you don't stop arguing with pretty boy, I'll leave you in charge again," the raven haired male threatened, raising his eyebrows.

The called boy's eyes widened. His silly argument was long forgotten and his mouth hung open. "You wouldn't," he whispered, shooting his boss the biggest and saddest puppy eyes he could.

"Try me," Minho challenged, now lifting his body up from the table. "I hope you won't mind-"

"No! I do mind!" Seungmin protested, his voice coming out as a whine. He crossed his arms and pouted. Honestly, he looked like a toddler. "I don't want to collect souls again! Some people are such assholes. Like, I'm sorry, sir, but you're dead and there's nothing I can do about it."

Soft laughs escaped the taller's mouth. "I have some paperwork, if that makes you happier."  
  
The redhead nodded eagerly and ran toward Minho. "You know I love paperwork right? Good old fashioned paperwork. Paperwork can't insult you or hurt your feelings," he rambled on while accepting the heap of files. He shot him a finger heart. "Thanks, boss, I love you."

Minho pretended to gag at the sentence, although the younger's cute little eye smile was really adorable. He really cared for Seungmin as a little brother who needed to be protected at all costs, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to treat him like they were actually related.  
"Come here you big baby, I really have the strong urge to ruffle your hair."

Seungmin's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head. "No! Not the hair!"

The Reaper emitted himself over to the secretary and put him in a headlock, making sure every single strand was out of place. He cackled maniacally when he saw the result.

The redhead fixed his glasses and glared. "I will end-" he wasn't able to finish his sentence. Another popped out of thin air, leaving a little smoke as it whirled into the Minho's hands. The mood had turned grim and the careless aura vanished as if it had never been there.

Seungmin exhaled audibly, already knowing what it was. "Why do Jisung's death notes always get a dramatic entrance? Usually they just come with the mail. They sure are feeling extra about this kid."

"See you later, Seungminnie, work hard." 

Seungmin stuck up a thumb. “Don’t do something dumb again.”  
  
“No promises.”

With a snap of his fingers, the Reaper had disappeared from the office and into the shadows. He reappeared in an apartment complex, a really low quality apartment complex where only desperate students would live. 

"What kind of deadly situations could happen here?" the boy asked out loud. He raised his eyebrows, clueless, and read what the paper had to say. He groaned and threw the note on the floor. "Really?! Falling down the stairs was the best you could think of?!"  
He clenched his fists. He really wanted to punch something, but he didn't want to pay for damage, so he just flailed his arms in the air. "Screw everything! Screw you! Screw me! Screw your dog! Screw life? Screw-"

"Are you okay there, mate?" a new, deep voice butted in, disturbing Minho's mental breakdown. "Saying 'screw your dog' is a little too much, don't you think."   
  
The ravenet turned around and smiled painfully at newcomer. A boy with freckles and orange fringe looked at him quizzically, plump lips stretched into a thin line. He looked way too sweet for such a demonic voice.

"I, uh, hi," the taller started, scratching his neck awkwardly. This is why he didn’t make promises. "Rough night, haha, don't mind me." 

"Okay," the stranger said. "I won't." He spun past Minho and proceeded to bring his groceries back home. "I hope you get through it, but don't hate on the dogs."

"I don't-" What was with everybody interrupting his sentences today? The Reaper would love to know.

"Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck! Felix, get out of my way! I gotta nyoom to class! I hate morning classes! Love you, Felix, take care!"   
  
Han Jisung came racing down the hallway in all his glory, one shoe still in his hand. He chaotically tried to put it on, hopping toward the stairs. "Fuck! Why is everything going so wrong this week?!"

Of course he tripped. It seemed as if they were really wanting him dead up in Heaven. They took every shot they had to kill the kid.

Minho reacted as if it was a reflex. He extended his arms, feeling the dark smoke escape his palms. They grabbed the falling boy by his limbs and delicately placed him back on two feet. It felt so natural to the Reaper, he had no control over it. Whenever Jisung was in a deadly situation, he felt the need to spare his life, to let him live. He didn't know why, but he felt the urge to protect him.   
  
Whenever Jisung's life was at risk, it felt as if his was too.

"Why is it that you're always around when I almost die?" Jisung had finally recovered from shock and once again saw the same guy casually standing against a wall.

The Reaper cursed himself and giggled nervously. "I know right, what a surprise," he rattled, clapping his hands in a skittish way. “Also, if you’ve been noticing this pattern of life-threatening events-“

Jisung interrupted, “They’re usually not that life-threatening. I just make them to be.”

“Will you let me finish?” Minho groaned. With an annoyed look Jisung wordlessly motioned for him to carry on, so Minho said, “Can’t you be more careful? You could at least clear up your balcony for minimum tripping hazards.”

“How do you know about that?” The younger narrowed his eyes warily at Minho's suspicious behavior. "Let me see your eyes," he demanded and ran up the stairs. "Come on! Show me!"

"My eyes?" the taller asked, confused. He then gasped and shook his head. He squinted his eyes closed and even covered them with his hands. "No."

"If you have nothing to hide, you wouldn't mind showing me," the grey haired boy stated stubbornly. "Show them."

Minho stepped back. "I have the right to not listen to you!" he retorted loudly before tripping and falling onto his butt. The younger's attitude was really scaring him. Who knew what would happen if he found out.

Before he knew it Jisung had pinned him down to the floor and was now staring at his face intently. "Fucking knew it," he mumbled and released Minho from his grip. "You were in my room the first time too. Also with the van and now here. What is your business with me?"

Minho blinked, desperate for an excuse, any excuse.

"Lee Minho, what are you?"

The Reaper’s mouth hung open, but there were no words to help him out of the situation. His mind had erased every other thought except for: _get out, right now_. Just like in every other tricky situation, he vanished into thin air with another problem piled up on his tipping the stash.


	10. 9

_13:52_

"Twice a day," Jisung said saltily while looking at his imaginary watch, "that's a record."  
He turned his head to the flowerpot that was levitating above his head. "I'll just step aside so you can drop that."

Minho dropped his arms to his sides, shadows retracting back into his palms. The object was sent tumbling down with and hit the ground with a loud crash. He sighed solemnly. "I'm sorry," he mumbled softly, looking at the ground.

Jisung clicked his tongue and started walking. "Those smoke bombs were not cool," he stated, ignoring the apology and stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “It was also kind of rude to run off like that and it surely makes you suspicious as hell, but it looked epic, so I’ll let it slide.”

"I'm sorry," the taller repeated a little more audible and hobbled after the boy. He didn't understand why he was so eager to be forgiven by Jisung, especially since he never did anything necessarily wrong. Unless breaking the rules to save a soul destined to die and by doing so messing up the order of life and death was wrong. However, it didn’t feel like Jisung was supposed to be _dead._ There was an irking undertone to the events, as if someone was ridiculing them from behind the scenes. 

The grey haired boy pursed his lips and stopped for a second to face Minho. "Nope, that's too weak. I'm not accepting that."

Minho pouted and ruffled his hair in frustration. "I'm sincerely trying to show my regret, but you're making it really hard. How can I make it up to you?" he asked, the pleading tone not going unnoticed. “Usually I’m the one they’re begging and apologizing to. I’m stepping out of character for you.”

Jisung did feel a little guilty for making the guy struggle this much and honestly his upset face was hard to resist. Minho looked like a frustrated little kid whose mom refused to buy him sweets. His inner little devil, however, was loving it and thinking of ways to milk out the situation. He pretended to think hard before snapping his fingers as if to show he got an amazing idea.   
"Buy me some cheesecake and I'll think about it," he smiled widely.

<><><>

And that was how the pair ended up in a cozy cafe with pastel color theme.

"You literally met me yesterday, aren't you a little scared?" Minho asked, eyeing the boy in front of him. He took a bite of his chocolate muffin and sighed. See, he thought, _this_ is why you’re being targeted.

"Oh no, I'm terrified," Jisung confirmed with wide eyes, stuffing another slice in his mouth, "but like, cheesecake."   
  
It came out a little muffled due to all the food he stuffed in his cheeks. Minho wasn't going to lie, he looked adorable. The boy in front of him really resembled a squirrel or a happy hamster and Minho just wanted to put him in his pocket and protect him.

Sadly, he had to die sooner or later. The Reaper just had to fix his little problem first.   
_Wait,_ the male thought all of a sudden, _he could die while eating cake right now. How weird would that look._

The ravenet's eyes shot up. "Hey, hey," he uttered and took a hold of the younger's wrist. "Slow down, or you'll choke and die."

Jisung raised his eyebrows at the statement. He swallowed the chunk of sweetness and cleared his throat. "Speaking of dying," he uttered, sudden seriousness in his once playful tone, "why is it that you always appear during these… unfortunate events? Even if they're so stupid no one would believe they could possibly kill you."   
The grey haired boy muttered the last part under his breath with a hint of frustration.

The Reaper's eyes darted towards anything that wasn't the pointed look of a certain boy with an inevitable death sentence. Not knowing what to do, Minho stuffed a whole new muffin, vanilla this time, in his mouth.   
  
Jisung gasped audibly. "You can't avoid a question that way!" he shrieked and hit the taller with the spoon he was holding.

“Sure can.” Speaking was another dumb thing he did, but Minho didn’t promise Seungmin _anything_. He started coughing, before finishing the food. "I'm not telling you, anyway. You can't make me, for I am a strong and independent-"

"Cut the crap," the younger grumbled. "Are you an assassin? Because if you are, could you make my death a little more heroic?"

Minho raised his hands in a defensive way. "How did you even come up with that theory?" he asked. "I'm not an assassin, I would have killed you ages ago if I was. You’re an easy target."

Jisung eyed him up and down, unamused. He scrunched his nose slightly. "That's a little unsettling," he stated with a little pause. "So, are you a stalker then? If you are, back the fuck up or I'll contact my lawyer."

"You don't have enough money for a lawyer."

"That's beside the point!" the shorter yelled out and draped himself over the table, resting his forehead on his arm. He then collected himself and squinted his eyes in a suspicious manner. "How do you even know I'm a broke student? Stalker, I say."

At this point Minho literally face palmed, although he was lucky the kid was this dense. So smart, but so very dense. "Because your look basically screams 'Broke Student', you live in that crappy apartment for God's sake!"

"Hmm, fair point." Jisung shrugged, nodding his head a little and took another big bite of his cheesecake. "But how do you know where I live, huh?" he then questioned, feeling very proud of himself.

"My friend lives there," Minho lied through his teeth. He was shocked at how good he was getting at thinking of excuses, no wonder they sent him to Hell. "His name is Seungmin and you probably don't know him, since he was moving in today," he quickly added before the younger would ask further. Dumb thing number three. He'd just have to deal with Seungmin's temper later.

"Okay then," Jisung answered, not fully convinced. He'd let it slide, though. The poor guy even bought him food. "Well, I think it's fair for you to know my name."

Minho's ears perked. Did Jisung really trust him that much already? No wonder he was going to die. "Are you sure?" he asked carefully, "I'm basically still a stranger to you."

"You bought me food," Jisung smiled giddily, "and we ate together. Therefore, I think you have the right to know my name."

 _You trust people because they buy you food? The world is too harsh for you,_ the Reaper thought, upset.

"Well then," Minho dragged out, not really knowing how to respond. "So will you tell me now? I'm intrigued now," he said with feign curiosity.

"Only if you do some drumrolls," the grey haired requested. "I'm very dramatic, you see."

The other agreed to do so, but not after rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. Minho liked to be dramatic too.   
  
Jisung imitated the sound of the elder's fingers hitting the table. "Badam, my name is," a theatrical break, "Han Jisung, thank you, thank you."  
He added a little bow at the end, which caused the 'audience' – Minho – to clap sarcastically. To make it even more humiliating, the ravenet whooped loudly for the boy in front of him.

Jisung wiped away some fake tears. "First of all, I want to thank my mother for birthing me-"

"Okay stop now, no personal stories," the Reaper stopped him. "We're not on that level yet."   
  
Jisung glared at him and Minho smiled back cheekily.

"Let's get going, I think the owners won't let us return if we don't leave now."   
The taller motioned for the other to follow him to the outside of the place. The shorter nodded curtly and hobbled after him obediently. The cheesecake here was way too good for him to let his pride ruin it.

“I’ll walk you home,” Minho stated, a little too shyly to close room for argument.

“Sure,” Jisung shrugged. “Follow me if you want.”

He had started walking ahead of them, while Minho still stood frozen. He had expected a slight protest – scratch that; he’d expected a life-ending fuss. He wasn’t going to complain about the turn out, though. He hobbled after the boy.

"I made up to you by telling me my name," Jisung spoke up once he’d caught up. "I also took care of my wound." He happily showed his cheek, which now had a brand new plaster on it. "As far as I know, I'm no longer indebted to you."

Minho felt his heart wrench a little at what the latter implied, he didn't want to stop meeting up with Jisung just yet. He felt as if he had the answers to his concerns and the Reaper oddly felt at ease in the other's presence.

The student caught up on Minho's downcast expression and chuckled softly. When he saw the boy look at him quizzically, he smoothly tried to mask it with a cough. "That doesn't mean we can't meet up anymore," Jisung declared with a wide grin.

The taller's eyes lit up when he heard. He even cracked a small but genuine smile. Jisung couldn't help but love how the elder's eyes twinkled, the dark onyx didn't look as tired and lonely as usual, they were shining with real gratefulness.

"Really? Thank you, I really appreciate it." For the first time in a very, very long time, Minho didn't feel lonely. However, the bright and carefree spirit faded when he saw a middle-aged lady standing in the entrance, a stack of boxes by her side. She seemed to have been collecting those. Her stance was anything but inviting; arms crossed, eyebrows knitted and feet firmly rooted.

Jisung followed the boy’s gaze. “What is… Oh! Mrs. Lee! I’ll help you with those” He turned back to Minho with an apologetic smile. "Bye, Minho! I'll see you around soon, I can feel it!" The younger waved shortly before vanishing around the corner.

The Reaper waved after him, grin plastered on his face. Unfortunately he was met with a certain messenger from Heaven who was wearing an even wider smile, eyes turned to crescents.

The ravenet let out a muffled scream, covering his mouth with one hand and grabbing his chest with the other. "Jesus Hyunjin! What do you need?!"

Hyunjin's eyes lit up at the question. "Oh," he said. "I'm just here to tell you to stop doing such a crap job or the Council will have to take drastic measures. Ta ta."   
He waved and then disappeared the same way he arrived, white smoke and little feathers drifting in the air. 

“Why does he get such a fairy-like exit?” Minho muttered bitterly, although that was only a distraction of the boy’s words. Drastic measures. Minho didn’t want to find out what that meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ao3 confuses me


	11. 10

After being alive – well, undead – for over a few centuries and only seeing the exact same people over that time, Minho had started to experience real loneliness. At first it was subtle and easily went unnoticed, as unnoticed as one smaller shell in a sea full of bigger, prettier ones.   
  
He had started feeling sudden waves of sadness and emptiness out of the blue, but it was just brushed off as being tired.

After some time and feeling this hollowness almost daily, he started to feel longing to meet others, to feel exposure to the outside world, to feel human. What even was human, he had forgotten that a long time ago.  
  
So, when Jisung had offered to meet up again, Minho felt what it was like to be normal again Moreover, he felt _alive,_ something he hadn't felt in a while. This feeling, however, scared the boy; it made him feel uncertain, anxious, insecure even. He had failed to remember how to interact, how the world worked. On the other hand it made him exited, the adrenaline rush he felt, he couldn't describe it. He ignored those feelings and let them wash over him.

The second stage of loneliness was way more detectible. Minho slowly stopped having energy to keep up contact with people, to put effort in his relationship with them. It worried his friends to death, but what could they do? Nothing.

In the end Minho had isolated himself, to the point where no one could speak some sense into him. All he wanted to do was brood by himself, to feel the pain, because apparently he deserved it. Because pain was better than nothing and being in pain meant that he was struggling with a purpose. To be in pain meant he was fighting for something.  
  
In reality Minho was fleeing, thinking he was all by himself once again.

<><><>

Minho inspected the note in his hands.

_ Han Jisung _

That was it, no further explanation. The Heavens must have caught up on Minho generously sparing the boy's life, which wasn't exactly his job. Quite the opposite of what he was supposed to be doing, actually. This time fate didn't send a warning. That was the final straw. He was going to find out what was wrong with him today, he was fed up with being left in the dark.

"Seungmin, you're on Jisung-duty today." The Reaper dropped his bag on the table aggressively and the look on his face made clear there was no point in making it a discussion.

"You promised me you'd never leave me in charge again!" Seungmin shouted accusingly at the elder.

“I don’t do promises.” Minho clicked his tongue. "I merely stated that if you'd do your paperwork you wouldn't do it again," he shrugged, inspecting his fingers in a bored manner. "I hereby officially retract that statement, you're on duty."

"What happened to the slang?" the younger muttered under his breath, annoyed. He was not going on such a heart wrenching mission again, he refused it.

His boss raised his eyebrows at him. "What was that?"

Seungmin looked up at the other male with a cheeky grin. "Isn't it your job to collect souls, since you're, like, Death and all?" he fired smugly.

The look on Minho's face darkened, as did the room. "I told you not to mention that again," he threatened in a low voice.

The redhead gulped. He had forgotten how much the subject hurt the elder, even though he didn't know what exactly had happened for Minho to hate the word so much. Yes, he died and had not the slightest clue why, but it was the same for Seungmin. Maybe it was because Minho had been alive for 400-ish years by now, he truly has become an old soul.

Touchy subject Seungmin laid his hands off.

The younger whistled awkwardly. "So, Jisung-duty, you say?" he quickly changed the conversation, maybe trying to lift his friend's spirits again. Even though Minho wouldn't admit it, Seungmin knew how happy the boy made him.

As expected, the Reaper's face lit up completely. "Uhh, so," he started unsurely, "I may have lied to him and said that you live close to him, in the student apartment complex, so you live there now," he finished, the goofy grin never leaving his face. “I’ll come by for a housewarming party, don’t worry!”

A ' _well fuck'_ was the only response Seungmin's brain could give him, but instead of saying that out loud he just sighed and snatched the paper from the elder's desk, together with the keys that said ' _Seungminnie's new home'_. "I just want you to know that you suck." With that said, the redhead let himself be absorbed by the darkness.

He jumped out of the shadows and into a shabby flat. He quickly scanned the place to see if anyone had seen anything and breathed out in relief when nobody was around.   
Seungmin was ready to strangle his boss. This was where he was supposed to live? The only reason Minho had become the overseer was because he was there first. Their powers were mostly similar and Seungmin had been silently plotting to overthrow the elder sooner or later, but it seemed like his plan would come into action in the near future.

The fallen angel roamed the halls in boredom, what else was he supposed to do anyway? He wasn't a student and didn't exactly have any hobbies and it seemed like he didn't even own a home at this point. Minho had said he would enroll him into the educational field again, but Seungmin wasn’t too fond of that idea.

"Curse you, Lee Minho," Seungmin grumbled angrily and kicked at the floor. Everything sucked and collecting souls wasn't something the boy enjoyed doing. The crying of his victims, their gnawing pleads to spare them, to give them another chance. They always beg to complete one last task, to say goodbye to their loved ones properly and to tell them how much they love them and how much they care.

Seungmin wished he could let them leave this world in peace, without guilt, but that was not how the Council worked. The Council was ruthless and heartless, if your time had come, your time had come. If fate had decided the end was restless, then so be it.

For this field of work, Seungmin had to learn how to switch off even the slightest sympathy. He learned overtime that he was supposed to be as cold as ice and as hard as iron, showing no mercy. He had to turn into a hollow version of himself, even if that resulted into hearing every single person's cry for help and any sort of pity at night.

The faint shuffling of feet behind him dragged Seungmin out of his brooding. He spun around on his heel to see who was there. The redhead's breath hitched, those big eyes and chubby cheeks, they seemed so familiar, but he just couldn't place a finger on it. 

_"Go on, Seungmin, go on and kill him,"_ a low voice rung in Seungmin's ears and he could swear he felt a cold presence right next to him, causing him to shiver in fear. The called boy's eyes darted left and right wildly. No one was there except for him and the squirrel-like kid.

"Who's there?!" he screamed out frightfully, his voice cracking at the end of the sentence. "I asked who’s there!" he yelled once again, feeling more confident this time.

 _"Kill him, Seungmin, you know you have,"_ the voice chuckled dangerously, no humor to be tracked. It hovered above him like a raincloud threatening to pour. _"I really don't want to have to take over, you know."_

"No! Stay away from me!" the redhead shrieked. He covered his ears to try and block out the torturing screaming in his head. He fell down and curled up into a ball as it only got louder and louder. "Stop, please make it stop," he whispered in desperation.

It did stop then and Seungmin's muscled relaxed. The boy felt relief wash over him and slowly crawled back up again, but a sudden jolt that ran through his body halted his actions.   
The redhead's eyes glazed over, once warm, brown eyes turning a sickening grey.

"I told you I didn't want to take over," the demonic voice said, but now with Seungmin's body. He looked down at his hands. "Let's see what your powers do."

Jisung's eyes widened, suddenly alarmed when the redhead's glassy gaze met his eyes. "I think I might have to run," he mumbled with an awkward smile.

The blank face of the other boy turned into a menacing smirk. "You should." 

The boy's body swiftly morphed into black smoke, which really caused panic to arise within the grey haired one.

"Boo."

Right when the thing – Jisung would call it a demon – reappeared behind him, he jumped to his feet, sprinting for his life. He saw the dark shadows surround him, punching holes into the walls and throwing every obstacle out of the way.   
  
Jisung had never felt this horrified in his life, but the adrenaline rushing through his veins was distracting him of that momentary problem.

He pushed himself to run a little faster when he saw his room nearing, he couldn't let the exhaustion get to him just yet. When he grabbed the doorknob, everything fell still. Jisung felt somewhat disoriented, but was way too thankful for this madness to come to an end.

He thought too soon; a cold, clammy hand held his shoulder in a death grip, making it impossible for the shorter to move, even less to escape. Jisung whimpered in discomfort, it was hell.

Right when the redhead touched him, Jisung felt a sharp pain in his head, as if a knife had been stabbed in and pulled out again. Fuzzy images slowly started to sharpen, a set of onyx eyes, sparkling with joy, hope, pure _happiness,_ together with subtle smile.   
  
_"Jisung, you do know how much you mean to me, right?"_

"Oh, so this kid can return lost memories," the demon stated as a matter of fact, putting an end to Jisung's trance, "Great addition. They outdid themselves with this one. I guess I could use his body some more in the future."

The black clouds had once again come into sight, this time wrapping itself around Jisung's body. It felt as if he was being torn apart, like pulling petals from a flower.   
As if the darkness was trying to separate his soul from his body.

"Damn, you're a tough one aren't you," the redhead said through gritted teeth. "Why won't you just die," he huffed afterwards. "Goddamn worthless, this."

Black streaks abandoned the taller's body, leaving the limp frame behind. "What… what happened?" he asked Jisung, muddled. "Why am I here?! He possessed me didn't he?! Tell me now!"

Instead of answering the questions, the grey haired boy harshly pushed the other away from him and onto the floor. He rushed inside his apartment and locked the door as soon as he slammed it closed. Breathing heavily, he slid down and wrapped his arms around his knees.   
Once he lifted his head back up again, he saw a figure sitting on his sofa with a sinister smirk.

"Who… who are you?" Jisung stuttered nervously. His anxiety levels rose, his heart pounding so loudly he could hear it. He wanted to scream, to run, but he was frozen in place, sitting as still as a statue. It was silent for a while, the only thing that was to he heard was the shivering exhales that escaped the boy's body.

The figure chuckled lowly, twiddling with the ring on its finger. Jisung stretched his neck to see what was on it and gasped softly when he saw a bright red skull.   
"Well, well, Jisung," it drawled mockingly. "I am you and everything you hate to be."


	12. 11

The elevator pinged, letting Minho know he arrived. He had done it; he went to Heaven. Not in a way most people do. Breaking in would be considered a sin, but there was no one there to stop him. If he wanted to be blessed, then he would be. After all that time he went to visit his first memory, the place that held most of his questions.

Sighing, he heaved his body from the bar he was leaning on and walked over to the front desk with dragging feet. The ravenet slammed his hand on the hard surface, startling a really confused and distorted Hyunjin. He kept a straight face, though inside he was screaming in pain. He refused to look like a fool in front of Hyunjin.

"I, uh…" Hyunjin slapped himself to pull himself together. "Welcome to the front desk of Heaven. We offer the best care to our guests and the greatest comfort before they’re sent off. I’m Hyunjin, how may I help you?" he asked with a dazzling grin, his dimples on full display.

"I'm here to see the Council," the Reaper demanded with hard eyes. He had finally collected all the courage he ever had and his ancestors' too to go up and he was not backing down this time. “Stop being so greasy. How did you get voted best in customer service?”

Hyunjin’s smiled dropped into a deadpan. The younger clicked his tongue and shook his head with an audible sigh. "No can do," he drawled. "You need to contact us at least three days in advance. Plus, you have no permission to be here, it's against the law. In fact, I should probably report you," he uttered as if he was thinking out loud and reached out for the phone. 

"What kind of bullshit is this?" Minho asked, growing more agitated by the minute. "I can't come here, but you can all parade around in my place? Isn't that discrimination? Trespassing is a violation of rights."

Hyunjin spun away from his files and raised his hands defensively. "I didn't make the rules, don't go attacking me. I just recalled what I was taught and I am _not_ going to receive penalty again."

Minho frowned. “When did that happen?”

“I accidentally let a soul escape and it started haunting their past bullies,” Hyunjin explained, playing with the stationary supplies scattered around.

“Accidentally?” Minho questioned him.

“Intentionally,” Hyunjin confirmed his suspicions. His eyes crinkled. “That’s why I get voted best in customer service.”

“See, you don’t have a hard time breaking rules,” Minho mused. He rested his chin on his hands, hoping that perhaps his cute charms might save him. “Help me out?”

Hyunjin looked at him, pained. “No,” he said, firmer than ever before.

Minho messed up his hair, impatiently tapping his foot on the smooth tiles. He watched his expression wither in the floor’s reflection. "Listen, Hyunjin, I don't have time for this. This is really important for my sanity and if you don't allow me to see the Council I will ban you from seeing Seungmin."

“You can’t,” Hyunjin gasped.

‘I will become so emotionally unstable that I will emit a force field,” Minho replied, nails scratching over the glass protecting Hyunjin.

It was a screech that could make eardrums burst into a river of agony. The other boy's pretty features twisted as he pondered on what he was just told.   
  
"Fine." After setting all the pros and cons next to each other in his mind, Hyunjin finally agreed. "It will be a great risk, as well for you and me, but I can let you go in this one time."   
There was this unfamiliar seriousness on the black haired's face that made Minho realize that he wasn't joking. He almost missed the playful and cheery Hyunjin, almost. "Follow me."

Hyunjin glanced around the room to see if there was anyone watching. He spotted a security camera.

“Hold on,” he told Minho, while he took out his phone. “Yes, hello, there seems to be something off with camera number five. I’ll schedule fixing tomorrow.”

He hung up and slid the device back into his pocket. He nonchalantly took a broom and knocked off the camera. Minho watched as it bounced to its death, wondering where that side of Hyunjin had suddenly come from. Hyunjin was a klutz nine out of ten times, so perhaps Minho was witnessing a miracle without knowing.   
  
Meanwhile Hyunjin quickly grabbed the keys from the key rack. "We have to hurry up now," Hyunjin warned the boy who was trailing after him without a clue, "it won't last long before they find out something I lied and I'd rather not lose this job. Who knows what happens if I do, I might reincarnate or maybe not."

Minho bowed his head, they really should have been informed better before the Council randomly threw them at whatever they thought was needed at the moment, whether it be an angel or a soul collector. Honestly speaking, their 'lives' were built upon worries, insecurities and confusion. There was no certainty of what would come. It was a manipulative method to keep them in check.

And that was exactly what the Council wanted. They wanted to be able to hold you in their cruel grip, making sure you had nowhere to run to. They granted wings, but never gave the freedom to fly away. That's how they worked, tricking one to believe they had liberty. They lied and lied until those lies become the only truth. 

It was so twisted, but none knew better than to roll with it. To live or not to live. To live is to suffer, to suffer is to die, but death wasn’t an escape.

The pair halted in front of a big, white gate. "We've arrived," Hyunjin declared and fumbled with the keys in his hands.   
  
While the other boy was occupied by other things, Minho took the time to admire the delicate carvings. They were definitely crafted by hand, as they seemed to date all the way back and the Heavens were just very dramatic. The ravenet’s hands traced the soft outlines of an angel's face, his eyes covered with a silky cloth and it wings spread wide, but he was unable to fly. It was an agony in portrait. His mouth was agape in a cry, his feathers crooked and falling like dead petals of a dried out flower. He was trapped by invisible chains of qualm.

It was to remind everybody who really held all the power.

As a soft click was heard, Minho tore his gaze away from the torturous image to meet the living angel's stern gaze. "Make it brisk and don't make too big of a fuss," he demanded, but his face turned soft within a second, "but most of all, find those answers."

"Thank you," he said sincerely and nodded curtly before pushing the gate open and entering.  
And it was quite anticlimactic. He thought it would be all white and sparkling and blinding, but no, it looked like a big meeting room. It was similar to a company's, with a bigger, more comfortable chair at the head. On top of all, it was completely empty, not a single soul could be traced. The only sound was the Reaper's consistent breathing.

Minho puffed out his cheeks and tapped the table in boredom. He didn't really think about what he would do if nobody was in the room. He expected the Council members to just be up there 24/7, discussing how they were going to be jerks this time, but apparently they needed breaks too.

"What am I going to do," he mumbled under his breath, swaying his body back and forth with his hands in the pockets of his long, black coat. "I knew I'd come this far, but why is no one here? I can't get information without the people I need to demand it from."

He shuffled around some more, trying to kill the silence around him. He kept moving forward until he stood in front of a bookshelf with books that had to be way older than he was. A good majority seemed to be holy books of every religion the boy could think of, but the very top shelf looked like a forbidden section- maybe it was just the skull chains that gave him that idea. Overall, it looked something he wasn't supposed to touch.

So what Minho did was exactly the opposite. He explored it, having to stand on his tippy toes to be able to see the titles.

' _Mark my grave'? That's dark and not suspicious at all,_ the Reaper sarcastically thought to himself. _What a joke_.  
  
"Oh my," he then said out loud, exaggeration evident in his voice. He scanned the room with raised eyebrows, "I wonder what happens if I touch this." His acting definitely didn't improve since the last time he needed to.

It did work, though. A cold hand wrapped itself around Minho's neck.   
  
"You're not supposed to touch what's not yours," he heard someone hiss in his ear, before his body had been harshly slammed into the wall next to them. The boy's eyes closed at the impact, his bones had been crushed and his throat was being clamped down. He let out some choking noises, but the deadly grip stayed firm.

However, when the Reaper saw the face of the culprit, a cocky smirk crawled onto his face. "There you are," he grinned proudly, holding onto her delicate arm to make it easier to breath.

A tall and skinny woman sneered at him, whipping her flowing, black locks over her shoulders. They seemed to bounce after her with a light effortlessness. It was as if they were floating in water.

"Why do you seem so happy about that?" she asked, her sharp eyes piercing holes through his. "You know perfectly well that what you're doing right now is not going to be let go without any consequences. You've really ruined it for yourself this time."

Noticing how the male was struggling to breath, the woman nonchalantly released him. She smiled in satisfaction when she heard a painful thud followed by a groan. "I even tried to convince the others that you weren't a lost cause, but I guess we've kept you around for too long, you've turned _soft."_

She spat out the last word as if it was poison on her tongue, as if it was something cursed.

"Sunmi, you have some explaining to do," Minho stated indifferently as he rubbed his sore spot. "I need you for the answers."

He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the shining surface of the marble table. He was shocked at the red claw marks decorating his nape, though his expression didn't betray anything of what he was really feeling. His gaze wandered back to who he was talking to. "So, are you going to tell me?"

The female was taken aback by the sudden words. "How do you remember my name?"

"Oh, I didn't, it's just that I saw a name plate there and took a guess," Minho replied with a straight face, "but judging by your reaction I can conclude that you are Sunmi and the head of this crazy get-together." He carefully scrambled back up to his feet. "Imagine how awkward it must have been if you were someone else."

The Reaper chuckled lowly while tapping the table. "Luckily I still remember your face, how could I ever forget who caused this mess."

"What are you onto, Lee Minho?" Sunmi asked flatly, stepping in the direction of the boy. She grabbed his chin, forcing him to face her. The lady dug her long, red nails into his flesh. "You won't find anything here, so stop searching. Even if you want to fight me, you can't." Within a second the Reaper's body was flying through the room, crashing onto the shelf he was inspecting a while ago.

"We gave you everything you have right now," she spoke lazily. "We've got you all figured out, you've got nowhere to run to and nowhere to turn you. You finally saw through our lies, haven't you? I can clearly remember last time this happened."

"I've never believed your lies," Minho spat darkly. He collected his strength and immediately was lost to sight. Sunmi's feline eyes darted around in panic, seemed like she was just bluffing about everything. Suddenly she felt her hair being yanked from behind, causing her to let out a slight yelp. "Now tell me, what is the honest truth, who am I?"

The lady briskly found a way to escape, sniggering at the youngster's naivety. "Silly little boy."

Minho frowned, not really knowing where the woman was getting at, plus he was a little offended. "Excuse you-"

He abruptly felt a blazing heat around his hands, followed by a blinding light. That together with a hard smack caused the Reaper to jolt back. He covered his teary eyes with his arm. As soon as the black spots in his vision disappeared he gazed up. Sunmi was floating up above, sparkling, white wings were cutting the air. The small breeze she created ruffled the ravenet's hair. Her eyes were glowing a dangerous yellow light, that had swallowed her irises whole.

This was her true form, she wasn't human, inside and out. Minho felt sick just looking at her, confronted by the actuality he hid himself from.

"I showed you what you wanted to know, so tell me Minho," she grinned venomously, her voice dragging as she inspected her nails, "why on earth are you hiding yours?"

She landed in front of him and grabbed the back of his shirt. "You should feel honored. We gave you all that power and you're taking it for granted, stop being so afraid and show them!" Sunmi screamed and ripped the fabric in half. "Go on! Stop running from what you are!"

"Stop it," the Reaper voiced firmly, grasping onto the angel's hands, "I never wanted any of this. I don't want to be reminded of the hideous creature you've turned me into, I'll never stop running."  
  
Reaching the end of his sentence he wasn't talking to the other person anymore, every word that left his mouth was aimed at himself. He tried pushed Sunmi off, but she didn't budge. She pushed the male against the wall with a devilish smile. "You know what you have to do, you'll have to face the truth once anyway."

After tugging and pulling, Minho started to turn desperate. With a hurtful cry and the sickening cracking of bones, a set of wings finally broke free from his back. A sticky, scarlet flowed out of the fresh wounds and onto the floor mixed with black feathers.

"That wasn't that hard, now was it," the woman laughed, wiping some blood off her red lips. She flapped her wings and got up effortlessly. She stroked the two cuts in Minho's back, causing him to hiss. "Hmm, truth hurts, doesn't it."

"Back off while you still can," the boy ravenet growled and slapped her hands away threateningly. "Even as a fallen angel I'd still be more humane than you'll ever be."

"Point made," the woman shrugged, "now that you've faced reality I'm ready to talk, have a seat please. You’ve opened up your mind, so it’ll be easier to converse."   
  
Minho was confused by the sudden politeness coming from the other. He reluctantly sat down on the chair furthest away from her, if he had to yell then so be it. There was no way he was going to get near that demon again.

The boy looked down at his lap, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Of course, he gave the Council's head the reaction she expected. Because of that satisfaction he sent her pride up to the next level, so she would help him. 

She was way too easy to take advantage of because of that flaw. 

"Why don't I have any memories from my past life," he questioned Sunmi immediately. After everything he went through, he was in no mood for playing. Even less than usual. To add up to that, his back now also hurt like hell because of a certain someone.

"Straight to the point, I see," the angel observed lightly and shoved a box of cookies over the table. She crossed her legs and folded her hands to support her head. "Take some."

The Reaper snatched a chocolate biscuit and stuffed it in his mouth hastily. "Don't avoid the question," he mumbled through all the crumbs.

Sunmi exhaled deeply. She scratched her forehead watching the mess form at his feet. "Not knowing, that's your punishment and all I can give to you," she said, sounding rather disappointed. "You can leave now. Also, I suggest you stay in your realm. Don’t meddle with what’s not your business to meddle with." 

She stood up, letting the legs of the chair screech over the floor. “Don’t do this again.” 

"Wait," Minho let out, causing the lady to halt her moves. "You might be done, but I still have some things to say." 

She raised her eyebrow, wondering why he dared go against het word. He never failed to surprise her. "What is it, child," she asked.

The male shot up, swatting his wings out of the way. Those things were so annoying and she said he had to be grateful for them, what a joke. 

"Fine, I won't ask you about my oh so mysterious past," Minho agreed. He saw the woman open her mouth to say something sassy, so he placed his finger on her lips, "but tell me one more thing, tell me why Han Jisung can't die."

There was no response, the steady ticking if the clock grew louder as the silence stretched out longer.

That's when Minho knew what he came for in the first place. "You don't know either, do you?"


	13. 12

**Felicks** 👅💦

_Sung????_   
_22:26_

_Yee to my haw????????_   
_22:29_

_Squirrel lookin bitchass_   
_22:45_

_Jisung_   
_22:53_

_J_   
_22:55_

_I_   
_22:55_

_S_   
_22:55_

_U_   
_22:56_

_N_   
_22:56_

_G_   
_22:56_

_¿¿¿???_   
_23:03_

_You okay?????_   
_23:03_

_Talk to me please_   
_23:12_

___________

Jisung sighed when he heard his phone buzz again and sunk further into his wall and pulled his knees up further. It was probably just Felix again, it wasn't like anyone else ever texted him. He found it quite paradoxical, how the boy always begged him to shut up, yet when he did he got worried. Lee Felix was one funny fellow. The grey haired boy diverted his attention back to the figure who was casually sitting his arm chair.

"What do you want from me?" the boy asked desperately, peeping through the space between his arms and legs. "And why the fuck do I have a man bun? You should let it down, it would really great. Although, it would get in the way while trying to murder people, wouldn’t it?"

His other counterpart just blinked. "Come again?"

"Oh, you heard me," the grey haired boy shrugged, relaxing his muscles. "See, you speak so modernly but look so old, I don't think that's how it works."

The ghost shot up and dusted off his long robe. "Listen, I know I'm not the youngest out there, but pointing it out really hurt my feelings," he whined with a pout. "Insulting my fashion is also really low of you, you literally wear the first thing you see in your closet!"

“How’d you know?” Jisung gasped dramatically while inspecting the clothes he was wearing; an oversized lilac hoodie with ripped jeans. "Okay, in my defense I was in a hurry this morning," he spoke hastily. "You should see me on a Saturday night."

"Tonight it's Saturday night," the other replied rather bluntly.

Jisung replied, “And I look great.”

“Your shoes are mismatched,” the ghost pointed out.

The squirrel-like kid opened his mouth to defend himself, though his words died on his tongue when his gaze fell on his red and black sneaker combo. He stayed silent for a moment, not really having a valuable argument. "You interrupted me," he then retorted after a lot of thinking. "No offence, but I wouldn't want to go out with you, nothing about you really screams 'let's go out and have fun'."

"Uhm, ouch?" the creature frowned and covered his chest with both hands. "I was really cool and trendy 400 years ago, you wouldn't stand a chance."

"Damn, _trendy_ ," Jisung drawled and whistled afterwards, "you really are old. From what era are you?"

"That's none of your concern!" he yelled out, oddly defensive about it all. He embraced himself watchfully, so the living boy eyed him up and down quizzically. "Hey! Why are you looking at me like that?!"

"Sensitive topic, huh?" the boy uttered while leaning his head on the wall. "I'll just drop it, alright? You were probably bomb as fuck in your time."

The spirit's smiled in approval. "Exactly! We really get one another, don't you think?!" he babbled on excitedly.

Jisung's lips were drawn in a thin line. "If I have to believe you, we literally _are_ one another," he mentioned lightly. "Your words, not mine," he continued when the other glared at him. He smiled uncomfortably while he examined his doppelganger. They really did look alike, same eyes, same cheeks, same mouth, apart from the hideous haircut and clothes of millions of years ago, they were similar in every aspect.

 _Everything you hate to be._ Jisung shivered, yet sweat as if he was running a fever. Everything he hated to be… He could exactly pinpoint what he disliked about himself. His emotionally draining personality that lots cared to point out, his unintentional way of hurting people, but he didn’t _hate_ those. He wouldn’t curl up into a ball of despair because of those points. He wondered what it could be, everything he hated.

"Well," the younger started, breaking the awkward silence, "your outfit sucks, but your chains do give quite a unique vibe?"

"My chains?" the ghost questioned in confusion. Then his eyes widened as if he just had a great idea. "Oh yeah! Damn, that was the reason I came here, how could I even forget such a thing?! You’re such a great person to talk to, you made me completely lose my mission.”

Jisung stuck up a thumb. “Thanks?”

“You should remind me," he directed at the kid, who was perplexed by the sudden change in attitude.

"Reminder, the chains are the reason you came here?" Jisung replied unsurely, causing the spirit to grunt.

He blew his bangs out of his face and placed his hands on his hips. "You know that's not what I meant."

The male just shrugged in an unconcerned manner. "You never told me," he stated the obvious.

"Why am I like this?" the other Jisung grumbled under his breath, clenching his fists in frustration. "Time to stop myself."

"Wait, wait, wait," Jisung spluttered in protest, shaking his hands and his head, "what does that mean?"

"You'll find out soon enough." There was only one little problem, the grey haired boy didn't want to find out.

"No-no, you really don't have to-" he stammered, but there was no use.   
The ghost scraped his sharp nails past the window, leaving thin marks behind. The sound was horrible, causing goosebumps to appear all over Jisung's skin.

“We were bonding so well,” Jisung said, reaching out his hand. “How about we do that again?”

The creature just kept getting closer, until he was standing right in front of the boy with a cynical grin. “We’re about to become closer than ever.”

Acting in a flash Jisung bashed the ghost’s skull with the first thing his fingers touched: a ceramic mug. How his messiness could end up helping him out. He wanted to tell his mother. She’d apologize for calling him out on it all the time. However, his proud rush subdued once he noticed that the other did nothing put flinch slightly.

He pulled a shard out of his hair, wiping the blood off on his cloak. He chuckled, swinging the piece in front of Jisung’s face. “You really though that could hurt me? Jisung, I’m _dead._ ”

It felt as if the walls of his little safe corner were closing in. Soft whimpers escaped his body, and Jisung tried to cover his body with his arms. "I thought we were on better terms now." 

"Hush, child," the ghost tutted, "you won't feel a thing." He crouched down in front of the trembling boy and stroked his cheek. "Just stay still."

The familiar feeling of his skin being ripped apart had returned. "This is what you call 'not feeling a thing'?!" he cried out, but soon realized that talking only worsened the pain.

"My bad," the demon chuckled darkly, but there was an obvious strain in his voice, as if the torturous feeling the other had was affecting him too.

The stinging got greater and greater, until it all stopped. The room was cold and silent, apart from the soft huffs both males let out.

"Well," the ghost said, clapping his hands due to the awkwardness he was feeling, "that didn't work."

Jisung raised his eyebrows and smiled sarcastically. If only looks could kill dead people. "Well, uh, it sure hurt me."

"I'm not sorry, though," dead Jisung admitted with a small shrug. He then smacked his thighs loudly and shot up. "This won't do, so I'm going to try something else."

"That's not appreciated," the grey haired boy uttered and stood up as well. "You seem like a busy person, so I suggest you leave," he shooed the older one, but the latter didn't move.

"Why is my company always so unvalued?" the spirit asked, upset.

"You haunt and torment people," Jisung responded dryly, "people don't really like that."

"Well, that's kind of an issue, I guess," the other replied, picking at his robe. "But let's not get distracted, I still have other things to do." He scanned the area with furrowed eyebrows. With a sigh he headed to the kitchen.

The grey haired boy already had a feeling of what would happen, but at this point he didn't have the any energy to fight it. If he would die now, then so be it. It's probably what fate wanted for him, seeing all the crap that had happened in the past few days.

However, it felt as if a hand had covered his ears and buzzed out all the external for a moment. There was this voice in his head telling him to not think those things. There was still hope and he wasn’t alone in this. There would always be someone looking out for him. There was a white warmth embracing him, that fought of the demons and cold he felt. That poltergeist couldn’t hurt him, because he was weak and alone.

"This should do," he heard a voice declare. He suddenly felt the icy presence behind him. It was as if the protective force had been pushed aside and all the dark flooded back in, but it didn't faze him any longer.

"Just make it quick," Jisung spoke, sounding exhausted, which he was. He was so tired of everything already, too much had happened today and his system was shutting down.

The demon sulked. "Geez, you're no fun," he complained with a faint whine in his voice, "but if that is what you want, sure. Easier for me too."

The boy closed his eyes, waiting for the impact. The stomach-churning sound of flesh being cut echoed through the apartment, but he felt completely fine. Maybe this was what death felt like, although he should be bleeding out by now, which wasn't happening.

He opened his eyes again and spun around to see what happened. His calm and dead expression rapidly turned into one of shock and worry. "Minho! What the fuck man!" he exclaimed.

The ghost was nowhere to be found anymore, but Jisung couldn't care less about him right now; all his attention was fixed on the boy in front of him. He could ask about all the shadows later, what really mattered at the moment was the knife sticking out of the ravenet's stomach.

"Are you an absolute moron?! You're dying! How did you even get in here?!" the shorter bombarded Minho with too many things at once, but he only laughed. "Why are you laughing?! This isn't funny, you clusterfuck! What should I do? What should you do?"

"You should calm yourself," the Reaper suggested soothingly, placing his one hand on the younger's head. With other he smoothly pulled out the blade. "See, it's fine, I'm fine." He twiddled with the object, before dropping it.

"You shouldn't remove it! That'll only make the bleeding worse!" Jisung panicked, frantically examining the wound, but when he lifted the boy’s shirt he watched how his skin mended itself again. It melted back together till only a faint scar was left. "Uhm, that's not how this is supposed to go. Today has been way too wild," he muttered to himself. "So, you want a drink?"

Minho was a little taken aback by the unexpected change in attitude, he had thought the boy would be a little more hysterical about everything. With a confused look the taller only nodded.

"I only have water at the moment, though. As you said, broke college student," he smiled while grabbing two glasses, "I could really use about five shots of vodka right now, honestly." 

"Don't we all?" Minho asked jokingly, causing the grey haired boy to chuckle softly.

"Yeah," he replied, "life just sucks that way, but I don't really have the right to complain. There are people out there who have it worse than me. A roof, education, a supportive circle, it’s not all too bad."

Jisung placed the drinks on the table and plopped down on the couch. He patted the space next to him. "Don't just stand there," he said with a bright smile, "I want some explanations and I have a feeling it's going to take quite some time."

The ravenet reluctantly agreed and collapsed next to the boy. "Your couch is really comfy," he spoke up, "also, your place isn't as bad as I thought it would be, it's really cozy and homey," he continued in awe.

"You're pretending like you haven't been here before," Jisung uttered with a knowing look. "I have new theories about you, but I want to hear what you have to say first."

Minho felt like melting into a puddle under the other's expectant gaze. He had no clue how to talk himself out of this mess he worked himself into. "I'd really like to tell you, don't get me wrong, but we could both get into some big trouble if I do," he told Jisung honestly, twiddling with his earring. “My list is piling up, so I think I’m going to die if I step out of line again.”

“You survived a fatal stab just now,” Jisung commented, taking a long sip. “I think you’ll be fine and so will I. I was quite a trouble before.”

“It’s different with that.” The twiddling worsened, the skull in his ear lighting up red.

The grey haired boy frowned at the action. He knew that red glow from somewhere, but decided to drop that for now. He couldn’t pinpoint it anyway. "I don't know if this is all some sick prank or if I'm really in danger," he huffed, but it was hard to be angry at the elder. He looked so lost and sad about it all. Jisung really just wanted to cuddle him and give him all the love in the world.

So that was what he did.

The ravenet froze at the sudden contact, eyes wide and mouth agape. "I-"

"I really need a hug right now," Jisung shut the elder up, leaning his head on his shoulder. "Could we just stay like this for a while, because I think you really need one too."

It was true, Minho did need a hug. He relaxed and melted into the other boy's touch. After a while he opened his arms for Jisung to get more comfortable too.

The younger snuggled closer. "I don't know what's going on and I barely know you, but somehow I feel safe when you're around," he commented lightheartedly.

Minho only hummed at the words, he felt at ease when he knew the boy was safe and when he didn't he felt restless. He didn't know why, but he wasn't going to complain either.

"So, about my theories," Jisung tiredly mumbled into the elder's chest, "wanna hear them?"

"Pour your heart out, if you must," Minho replied with a soft smile, playing with the younger's soft locks. If Jisung was the one to find out himself he'd be in less danger. The Council only tracked Minho, so if Jisung figured it out, it meant the Reaper didn't tell him and it would be less likely that the Heavens found out.

"Well, we already crossed out the stalker, although I'm still a little skeptical," the younger started, sending the taller a pointed look, "but you keep on doing this vague 'vanishing into thin air', so from that I can conclude that you're either a ninja, magician or not human. Ninja can be crossed out too, because you aren't subtle at all."

"That's not true! I can be if I want to!" the Reaper spluttered in protest, but Jisung placed his finger on the boy's lips.

"No interrupting, I am giving a TED Talk here," he remarked seriously, and Minho couldn't deny how small and adorable the grey haired looked, all curled up into his big sweater.

What could such a squish ever have done to make them want to have his soul.

"I apologise," he grinned giddily, "please continue."

"Where did I leave off?" Jisung wondered. "Oh yeah, not a ninja. You don't seem like a magician, you don't look like you're good at deceiving people. Your excuses suck."

Minho bit his tongue to avoid spilling out some snappy remarks, he knew it was kind of true. He'd swallow his pride just this once.

"That leaves us with one option left, that you're not human," the boy concluded, playing with the elder's hands, "and the fast healing only adds up to that. Now, all I have to think of is what you are."

Jisung slowly clambered into a sitting position, facing the Reaper. "Are you perhaps my guardian angel? I mean, you're always there when I'm in a dangerous situation and then you save me. That's why I thought maybe, yeah," he rambled on.

The elder sighed sadly. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you. All I can say is that I'm not the angel you want around you."

There was a long pause, neither of the boys saying anything.

Of course Jisung would think that. Minho hadn't been acting like the Grim Reaper around him at all. Minho himself was slowly starting to think that he was indeed supposed to protect the kid. Heaven no longer sent him notes, hoping that he'd finally let the boy die, but the ravenet could feel when something was wrong. Just like earlier, when the spirit was going to kill the boy. Minho's body had reacted on its own. He had teleported over before he could think. It was as if they were connected by some odd bond, because in all his years he had never met a case as peculiar as Han Jisung’s.

But maybe, just maybe, that was the way Minho wanted it.

"Could you please hug me again? I really want to forget reality right now."


	14. 13

_10:56_

"I've been expecting you," Jisung smiled happily and tried to squirm out of Minho's arms. "I didn't think ladders were that unstable, to be very honest."

Minho laughed, gently placing the younger on the wooden bench next to them. "You seem quite cheerful today," he observed. "Why were you on the ladder in the first place?"

"Oh, no reason, really," the grey haired one shrugged. "I thought it would be fun to see if I could peep through Felix' window, it's the least I could do after ignoring him. Also, I wanted to check on Charleston, but my balcony has been a no-go zone."

"You're one of a kind," the ravenet commented. He meant it in the best way.

"True, but I have something planned for today," Jisung answered, grin stretching out even further, "we're going to an animal adoption centre!" he exclaimed excitedly, "and maybe getting our hair dyed," he added under his breath.

"What about your job or college?" the elder asked, purposely ignoring the last part. He’d been going strong raven for a long time. It had become a personality trait by now. Besides, he wasn’t going to let his virgin hair get touched up by chemicals.

"I called in sick for work, because I think I deserve a break after what happened last night," Jisung explained quickly trying his best not to show how scared he had become to be alone, though he wasn't ever really alone because there was probably a demon roaming his house. "Also, college is a little dead right now. I’ve been having to teach kids basic music. Singing nursery rhymes and clapping rhythms and all that. It’s Sunday, so schools are closed."

"Okay," Minho replied. Jisung sighed in relief when he saw how the other was completely clueless. "What are we waiting for? I wanna cuddle some cats," the Reaper beamed, looking at his feet shyly.

Jisung wanted to scream at the adorable action, but that would scare him away and that didn't fit in his schedule today. He grabbed the elder's hand and smiled. "I'll lead the way."

Minho's eyes widened at the bold move and a red tint dusted his cheeks and ears. "I trust you," he replied softly, the words feeling unfamiliar on his tongue. He'd never even told Chan, his closest friend for over a century, that he trusted him. What was so different about this impulsive dork he'd met just recently?

"I'm guessing we won't be back for the whole day," the taller assumed.

"You are correct," Jisung confirmed with a nod. A panicked look then struck his face. "Wait, is that a problem for you? I'm sorry, I should've taken your agenda into consideration—"

"It's fine, I'll just arrange something," Minho interrupted the younger's rant and clumsily pulled out his phone to text his secretary. He refused to break their intertwined fingers.

** Seungmin **

_You're in charge_   
_11:07_

_Fu_   
_11:08_

The Reaper sniggered to himself softly. Seungmin was going to end him. It was becoming a game to him now; how far could he go before his neck got snapped. "There, all done."

Jisung, however, wasn't exactly convinced yet. "You really don't have to force yourself to go with me," he mumbled. 

"Nope," Minho refused and stubbornly grabbed the boy's hand again, "I will see those kittens and nobody's stopping me."

"Let's go," the younger agreed, a little intimidated by the ravenet's determination. He must really love cats. When he saw the other smile, all the bad feelings washed away. He looked so beautiful and for a moment, Jisung couldn't detect any sadness in the boy's face. He remembered why he had come up with this idea in the first place.

Minho giggled happily, nearly skipping next to the shorter. He decided against it, he had to keep his image intact somehow.

"What exactly are your dreams for the future?" he asked, looking Jisung right in the eyes. They hadn't really talked during the whole way, so the elder thought this was a good way to start a conversation. Jisung, as far as he’d seen, wasn’t the type to engage in small talk. He liked deep, ponder-worthy conversations; discussion that shared a vision, instead of discussing how soggy the clouds were looking.

"I thought we weren't 'on that level yet'," Jisung remarked, amused, referring to the time they'd gone to that cafe.

"Well, we can just slowly get to that level by asking such questions," Minho reasoned confidently, looking proud of what he'd just done. "I can't guarantee that I can give honest answers on everything, but you can ask away. I'll try my best."

"I'll just answer you first, because I suck at asking these kinds of questions," the younger explained with an awkward expression, mouth stretched into a thin line. Whenever he'd play these games with friends they'd just search up what to ask.

"It's fine," Minho reassured, ruffling Jisung's hair, who stuck his tongue out as response, "holding conversations is quite a talent."

"Adults really underestimate how hard that can be," they grey haired boy admitted. "Anyway, back to the point, I've always loved music. Since I was a kid–"

"You're still a kid," Minho mused annoyingly, poking the boy's cheek.

"–and I want to show the children now how amazing music is," Jisung continued, unbothered, swatting the taller's hands away. "I want to show them that music is so much deeper than just some notes and nice tunes, I want to expose them to the artistic part of it. I want to show them how much feelings it can contain, maybe even inspire them to make music themselves, because music has always been my turn to when no one else was there. "

"I see," the ravenet nodded, touched by the other's story. "So, are you studying to be a musician?"

"In a way," the younger replied, "I'm studying to be a music teacher right now. People tend to think that choosing artistic studies is just taking the easy way, but they never realize how much something as 'simple' as art can mean to somebody. It’s hard to create things from scratch and to share a perspective in an artistic way."

Minho didn't say anything, he didn't exactly have any knowledge on modern day society. He also didn't really want to kill the mood that was surrounding the boy, it was a little downcast, but he could still sense the pride and ease the other felt with his belief and decision.

But if it wasn't Minho killing the mood, it had to be a random chair flying by. Acting on instinct, the Reaper spun Jisung out of the way. He pulled the boy into his arms. The chair didn’t hit a person; it flew straight through a wall of black nothingness.

"Who the fuck even throws chairs!" Minho cursed loudly, checking the younger for injuries. "Are you hurt? Do you feel alright? Please don't be sick."

The other boy took both of the Reaper's hands so he'd stop squishing his face. "I'm okay, really. Now stop panicking," he shushed the elder. "Come sit down next to me and enjoy the scenery."

Jisung was patting the patch of grass next to him, so Minho sat down, still sulking. The ravenet was hugging his legs, resting his head on his knees with a pout. "Why can't I do anything right?"

"What do you mean?" Jisung quizzically questioned, placing his hand on the other's shoulder. "You're not doing anything wrong, you saved me again. You said you're not the angel I want around, but you're always there to protect me."

The Reaper sunk into his knees even further. That was exactly what he wasn't supposed to do; he wasn't supposed to feel this attached to a person who was destined to die. The worst part of all was that he was the one who was supposed to take the life away from this innocent boy. He's been lying to Jisung this whole time, he lead him into believing he was good and even got the kid to trust him. He deserved the punishment the Heavens were giving him.

His ear stung. He grabbed onto the earring once again – something he’d been doing more often than not these days – as an attempt to keep the buzzing down. No matter his attempts, the fire-like red continuously left a burning scar. He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. The pain decreased ever so slightly, and every little bit was a fortune.

Noticing how the elder hadn't cheered up and how he had turned to avoid his gaze, Jisung decided to continue speaking, hoping it would be of any comfort. "I don't know what we just did, but it was pretty cool," he voiced lightly. "I felt like I was flying for a moment. Is that how free you feel whenever you just jump into nothingness?"

Minho wanted to laugh at how ironic those words sounded. "You get used to it," he said indifferently. "It comes with the price of your freedom, though. I don't really recommend it. I'd exchange all the power for my freedom any day."

The grey haired boy frowned. He didn’t quite understand what he'd just been told. "Giving up your freedom," he spoke, leaning back and letting the soft rays of the sun hit his face, "I guess everybody can relate to that nowadays. You can't really live your life without society having an opinion about it. Everybody feels trapped in the expectations everyone has set for you. School, parents, even friends, they all expect things from you and you will never be able to live up to it all."

Minho stayed silent, so Jisung decided to continue, “My parents didn’t approve of my career choice at first. They asked why I couldn’t study something solid like my brother. Science just isn’t my thing.” He smiled, cracking an eye open at Minho. It seemed as if he was winking. “I know you have to choose something that gives some certainty, but it’s my life after all. I’m the only one who has to live it. They’re just concerned, but they won’t be the ones having to go to a job they hate every day for all the years until they’re old.”

Minho looked at the boy next to him with wide eyes, at how calm he looked while saying that. He seemed at peace, knowing that it was okay to not live up to what people wanted from him. He admired Jisung for that, for knowing his self-worth and when it was enough. The Reaper wished that someday he'd be able to feel that way too. He slowly got out of the cramped position he was seated in and mirrored the other. It felt good to feel the warmth and life around him, just forgetting everything for a moment.

He knew he couldn't show Jisung the real him; he'd have to hide himself under a mask if he wanted to keep meeting up with the boy. He'd surely hate Minho if he ever found out about what a horrible being he truly was. It was his fate to be alone.

But he knew that the warmth Jisung made him feel, all the smiles, all the encouraging words, he knew they were all real. So maybe he could just keep living this lie for a little longer, to feel like himself for just another day, even though he didn't even know the real him himself. He had spent his time as an adaptable chameleon. He turned into what was expected of him in the moment. It was true he complained about the rules all the time, but he _never_ dared break even a single one. Even drunk, he never left a task uncompleted.

Jisung made him feel real and spending time with the younger made him remember what it was like to be human. They may have erased his memories, but they could never take away the feelings that his body would never forget. They were imprinted in his conscience.

Minho was never one to believe in things as destiny or the Heavens having a path planned out for you, but when he felt the younger's head on his shoulder, he thought that perhaps the Heavens had mercy on him and thought that he deserved happiness to.

"The view is so pretty," Jisung gushed in awe, causing Minho the hum. It was true, the sky was clear and the trees were in full bloom, seeming as if it was spring. They were sitting under a tree close to a lake. It was amazing to see the sun shimmering in the small waves. They could only be far, far away; home was cold.

The thing about spring was that it finished as soon as it started. Before one knew it, summer had already come, erasing every trace of the springtide. All the flowers on the trees would be gone soon, just like the feeling in Minho's chest. It would soon be replaced by a quenching hurt he couldn't explain. There was a comfortable silence between the two, just feeling each other's presence was enough.

Jisung then shifted to lay flat on his stomach, facing the ravenet. "Do you have any dreams for the future?" he inquired, cupping his face. "As far as I remember, I've been the only one to answer questions. I know it's kinda uncreative, but I'm curious about what you have to say."

Minho sighed depressingly. "My goal for the future is to find myself," he responded, staring at the water. "I want to know who I am outside of this."

"Identity is a hard concept," Jisung nodded, admiring the way Minho looked, noticing how the sad glint had returned. “I think it’s shaped by experiences, though. Siblings get raised by the same parents, but they are never the same people. I don’t think you need to pinpoint your personality exactly, but if that’s what you want I suggest you take a test. I’m a turkey sandwich.”

That made Minho laugh and Jisung felt himself swell up with a sweet happiness.

Jisung didn't know if the boy meant what he said metaphorically or if it was supposed to taken be literally, but he noticed that this was a serious topic. Seeing the elder upset caused the grey haired boy's heart to ache, but he didn't know why. He felt safe around the ravenet – his guardian angel –, but somehow he felt guilt deep within. The feeling was unexplainable, but it was there. Maybe it was because he felt guilty that Minho always had to come help him out when he probably had better things to do.

When he thought about that, he'd think about what he'd seen when the demon attacked him.

_"Jisung, you do know how much you mean to me, right?"_

No, he didn't know,he didn't even know what this memory was, but for some reason he had it and he had suppressed it. Minho was in it too, but he didn't recall ever meeting the boy in all his life. There was a possibility that the ravenet might've been protecting him for longer than he thought and that brought him back to the guardian angel theory, but Minho had been pretty clear that wasn't the case.

Whatever the memory was, it could be the key as to why he felt so comfortable around a near stranger.

"Don't you get creeped out by the fact that we've gotten so close in such a short time?" Minho suddenly piped up, picking at the grass. "Because I do think about it quite often."

Jisung chuckled; the taller would never know just how much. He'd even been pondering on that exact thing just a second ago. "Yeah," he admitted, scratching his neck, "but I don't really see it as a bad thing, to be honest. Besides, Romeo and Juliet literally decided to get married after only a few hours of knowing one another, so I don't think we're that extreme.”

"Are you trying to say something, Sungie?" Minho assumed smugly, wiggling his eyebrows in an irrupting manner.

Jisung felt his cheeks heating up. He had fucked up. "I-, Romeo and-and Juliet is overrated," he stammered, wanting to smack himself across the face with a branch. Did he really use the so-called 'greatest love story of all time' as an example? Was he really that much of an idiot?

He wasn't dense, he knew that he felt something around Minho, but as Minho said, they knew each other for a short time, so he shouldn't think of his feelings as too much. Once they got to know each other better, then he could start worrying about crushes.

Minho lay down next to the grey haired boy giddily, faces only inches apart. "Don't fret about it too much, I'd love to reenact Romeo and Juliet with you anytime," he teased. "Without the dying part, we don't like that," he hurriedly added, scrunching up his nose in dismay.

"Without the dying part," Jisung mimicked, sticking out his pinky. “You know, I actually hate Romeo and Juliet. Their age gap… Juliet was a literal fetus. Also, they were dumb. Mercutio deserved better, even though he was also an idiot.”

Minho intertwined their fingers with a dejected smile, seeing how hopeful the younger looked. “Agreed. Everyone hated each other because family history told them to. This is why we can’t have good things in the world.”

Jisung giggled. “For school we had to watch the movie adaptation, but my teacher had such a big crush on Leo Di Caprio…”

Minho only smiled, listening to whatever the boy had to say in silence. He treated every moment with Jisung as if there wouldn't be a next time, because he knew how big the possibility was that that could be true.

 _Just one more time,_ Minho thought, broken-hearted, _after that I'll accept reality again._

No matter how hard he’d try to hide it, all the lies get found out eventually.


	15. 14

"So, you decided it was time to come back to life again?" a certain librarian asked, sarcasm dripping off his tone. He was sitting behind the checkout counter in a bored manner, leaning his chin on a stack of books. "You look like shit, please go back home."

Jisung lazily ran his hands through his messy and tangled locks, wincing when he forcefully pulled out a knot. "My feelings have been hurt. I feel just fine, you ass," he snapped, glaring at Changbin.

He wasn't fine, not in the slightest. It had been impossible for the boy to sleep properly for days. Hazy images kept appearing in his mind, they felt so real it was scary. The bags under his eyes were also very anxiety inducing, they looked big enough to hold a truck. That might've been an exaggeration, but that was how Jisung felt.

"Are you sure, because that doesn't seem like fine," the shorter asked worriedly. The boy looked like he hadn't slept in weeks and was now recovering from his fifth mental breakdown. His socks were mismatched and his clothes were probably the first one he'd found. He placed a strong hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Jisung immediately let go of some tension in his muscles. Changbin’s touch was warm and sent a comfort through his body. He felt slightly better again, though it was _a lot_ of negativity that had to be worked away.

The younger downed what was left of his coffee with two extra espresso shots in one gulp and made an 'okay' sign. "Never been better," he insisted with a forced smile, hoping it hid how much he wanted to cry at the moment.

"I don't think that's healthy," Changbin noted. He was honestly concerned for the grey haired's health.

"Good thing I have no regard for my personal wellbeing," Jisung answered shortly and picked up two textbooks. "Is Jeongin at the usual table?"

After his colleague nodded, the younger quickly left without even batting an eyelash. That's when Changbin was certain there was something wrong. Usually he'd be so clingy and cheerful to the point of it being annoying, but today he seemed so distant. An anxious aura was surrounding the boy, as if danger could strike at any given moment.   
That's when it hit the black haired one, the sketchy scene that had occurred a few weeks ago. Was that man bugging him? Did he do something to Jisung? Was he supposed to fight someone?

Changbin had a fair share of fighting off what bugged the boy and he wasn’t scared to do it again. It was an obligation after all and he actually cared for the boy quite a lot. The last part wasn’t by obligation. 

Changbin sneakily got the book cart and rolled it toward the corner of the library. He didn't enter that aisle, though; instead he took a turn to the shelves one row before those. Peeking through them he hoped he would see if the grey haired boy was still out of it, maybe he'd even spill what was happening.

Everything seemed normal; the other two occasionally joking around, realizing later that Jisung was supposed to be helping Jeongin with school. However, there was no trace of any genuine happiness in the older one's eyes. His laughs felt dry and his comments didn’t have their usual sarcastic wittiness to them.

Because Changbin was so focused on the two in front of him, he dropped the book he was trying to place on the higher shelf. His eyes widened and he quickly dropped to the ground. He tried to hide behind the cart, only to hear Jisung exhale loudly.

"Binnie, the only ones working right now are us two," Jisung deadpanned, not sparing the elder a glance. "Can you stop being so idiotic? Jeongin and I are trying to math."

The elder scramble back up again and dusted of his pants. "Math is not a verb," he remarked, trying to act as casual as possible. He leaned onto the wall weirdly with an awkward smile.

"Guess what, it is now, I've decided that just this moment," Jisung snapped out of irritation. He angrily scribbled down a problem and stared at it blankly.

It sounded too aggressive for it to be Jisung’s usual self. Changbin silently prayed to those up above to have mercy on him. 

"Guys," Jeongin butted in, "has something happened between you? Are you fighting?" The redhead was puzzled by their out of the ordinary behavior. The lightness that normally hung in the air was replaced by a uptight tension. He didn't like it.

Changbin scoffed in disbelief. "I don't know, maybe if Jisung wouldn't be such a little bitch I'd know what was going on," he huffed and sat down with them. "You can't keep to yourself forever, it'll only make it worse. We're just trying to help, you know."

The other shook his head absentmindedly. "Everything is already falling apart and there's nothing you or I can do about it."

"What does that even mean!" the black haired suddenly shouted, not caring that they were in a place that was supposed to be quiet. He ignored the few students staring at him; it wasn't as if they were studying and Mrs. Yoon was out in the back. "Jisung just talk to us!" he begged.

"You would never understand!" the younger cried out, sounding desperate for everything to end. "I can't sleep, I can't just go out without having to be extra careful and even if I am I still get fucked over!"

"Could you at least explain it to us?! At least tell me if it was that man, you know, the one who only wears black, " Changbin begged, grabbing the boy's hands. Even Jeongin, who was silently watching the scene unfold, sent Jisung an expectant look.

"I can't," Jisung murmured, avoiding both's gazes. "I don't even know what's going on and Minho didn't do anything wrong. How do you even know about him?" He shoved his chair back, the screeching causing goose bumps on his arms. "Never mind, I'm calling in sick again. You're right, Bin, I should go back home again. Tell Felix not to worry too much about me."

Changbin opened his mouth to ask how he'd found out, but the younger was quick to shut him up. "Your lock screen and I saw you roaming around our halls. If you want to date in secret, you aren't doing a very good job. Congrats, though."

With that, Jisung collected his things and headed to the exit. He vaguely heard Jeongin say 'Changbin, I'm scared for him' and honestly speaking, so was he. He was terrified. He was scared to go out, he was scared to be alone , he was scared to sleep, but he had nobody to turn to. His family lived too far away and to get there he'd have to go out. The risk was too big. His friends wouldn't understand the situation. Truth be told, it all sounded crazy and unbelievable.

The only one who really understood was Minho, but who even was Minho as a person and to Jisung. Jisung felt safe around him, but he was also the one who kept appearing in his nightmares.

Jisung watched his feet as he walked, his surroundings long forgotten. He continued dragging his tired body to the bus stop, but the sound of wires snapping broke his trance. His head shot up in fear, anxiety building up inside him. Everything seemed to be falling in slow motion and Jisung felt that this would probably be the end of it all.

He closed his eyes and waited for the impact that never came, only a soft breeze that pushed him out of the way. Slowly the ringing in his ears died down and the sounds of screaming people got louder. Everyone was brushing past the grey haired boy, rushing to see what happened.

Jisung stretched his neck to observe the accident, but gasped at what he saw. He felt tears well up in his eyes. He pushed the people away and dropped to his knees next to a man's unconscious body. "Someone! Call an ambulance!"

He checked for a pulse in a panicked manner. "This is my fault, this is my fault, this is—" His chant was broken by a hand on his shoulder.

He looked up and saw Minho, shaking his head. "Please step aside," he whispered, crouching down next to the boy. "I'll handle it."

The younger obeyed, hands shaking due to the shock. He watched what happened from the sidelines. The boy dressed in solely black held out his hand, as if he was waiting for a handshake.

"It's okay now, the pain is over," he spoke in a soothing voice. Jisung didn't know who he was talking to, though. He also didn't expect anything to happen; this was some scary supernatural shit.

That was when an almost transparent hand grabbed Minho's and a silhouette that looked like the injured man's got up, but without all the wounds and blood.

The sound of screeching tires and sirens interrupted the moment. Paramedics hurriedly placed the body on a cart.

The man covered his mouth with his hands. "Isn't that me? Am I-am I dead?" he stuttered, almost collapsing if it wasn't for the ravenet to catch him.

Minho patted his hand and nodded sadly. "I'm sorry to tell you, but yes, you're dead, Jongsuk, I'll send you to the brink of afterlife, since you still need to be judged. Good riddance."He closed his eyes and just like that, the man had evaporated.

The crowd had thinned out since it had all been handled, so it was easier for Minho to reach Jisung. He stepped in the boy's direction. "Hey, are you alright?" he questioned him in concern.

Jisung only sniffled and wiped away his tears, but he only cried harder when he saw his bloodstained hands. "I'm a horrible person, I'm the one who should have died!"

The elder wrapped his arms around the boy, shushing him softly. "Don't say that," he replied. "Don't you ever say that."   
  
He stroked Jisung's hair as he sobbed into his chest. He cupped the shorter's face and wiped away his tears with his thumbs. "If you were supposed to die, the Heavens wouldn't have made it so hard for me to take your soul.”

He felt a glare in his back. He turned his head slightly to see an old lady with half moon glasses. He had seen that hostile stance before, back at Jisung’s apartment complex. He ignored her. “Also I wouldn't let you go that easily."

When Jisung stayed silent, the Reaper held out his hand. "Let's get you cleaned up and then we can go for a walk."

"No," the younger croaked out, voice hoarse due to the crying, "we can go to my house. I don't want to see the outside world at the moment."

Minho could get where the boy was coming from. He had witnessed what could've happened to him, what – as he had said – _should've_ happened to him. He felt guilty because he thought that the man wasn't supposed to be dead, but him. He was tired.

So Minho agreed. "Okay, if that will cheer you up."

The way home was silent, nobody daring to say a word. After Jisung had unlocked his door, he excused himself to take a shower and told the other to make himself at home.

"Not a guardian angel, but the angel of death, that's why you're not an angel I want around, " Jisung recalled, heading to the couch with two glasses of water in his hands. "You're the Grim Reaper," he stated, sitting down next to the elder.

"You don't have to pretend to be okay after what you saw," Minho said, partially to avoid answering and partially because he didn't want the boy to hurt even more.

"This is just my way of coping," the grey haired boy replied, sipping his drink. "I know it's not healthy, but bad habits can't be killed easily."

Minho silently thought about all those times that he'd pretended to be fine and the amount of times he'd avoided problems. He decided he was being a hypocrite and shouldn’t be lecturing someone on the danger of bad habits.

Jisung continued, "You're supposed to kill me, but you keep saving me, I wonder how that works. It would've been nice if t wasn't at stake of someone else's life."

"I swear I didn't save you this time. I arrived after the accident. Jongsuk was supposed to die, I still have his note."

"You get notes?" Jisung asked curiously, also feeling a great weight lift off his shoulders when he heard it wasn't all his fault, but the guilt still remained. "You probably have mine too."

Minho scratched the back of his neck. "About that," he started, "they stopped sending yours after, like, the third."

"The _third_?!" the younger yelled, he definitely did not expect that. "How am I still alive?!"

"Hell if I know, I'm having that exact dilemma too," Minho remarked. They both felt the silence thicken, so the ravenet decided to speak on. "Aren't you afraid of me?" he asked, fumbling with a loose thread on the pillow, "I can fully understand if you hate me now."

"Not in the slightest," Jisung reassured the elder, laying his head on the Reaper's lap, "and I could never hate you. You say I don't want you around, but that's where you're wrong. I happen to like your company."

"Why would you?" the ravenet questioned, blushing slightly at the boy's bold move. "I can't bring happiness to anyone, I'm literally death. I take away life and joy."

Jisung smiled sweetly, and the elder thought that gummy smile would give him cardiac arrest. "But to me you're my guardian angel, you've never tried to hurt me."

Minho couldn't exactly place the emotion, but his heart fluttered and he felt mushy, like he could melt into a puddle under the boy’s sunshine type of smile. Even though Jisung didn't know yet, Minho surely felt things for him too.


	16. 15

_02:34_

_"Jisung! Jisung, stop being so slow!" a young prince yelled, waving his hands at the boy he was calling. He was dressed in the finest blue fabric, gold embroidered into it._

_"Yes! I'm coming, stop whining!" the boy gasped, taking a short break to catch his breath. He groaned, placing his hands on his knees for support. "Just give me a minute. I need some time to consume air."_

_"We don't have a minute! I really, really want to teach you that dance," the other rushed the shorter boy. "I'm not supposed to be outside of the palace. The guards can come and get me at any moment."_

The prince' face was blurred out, Jisung couldn't identify who it was, but the shorter one looked exactly like the demon that has been tormenting him. It was one of those nights again, where he was paralyzed, forced to watch the scenes in his dreams.

_"Okay, so you move that arm around over here— No! Not like that!" The taller gently took the boy's arm and corrected the position, delicately as if he would break with a harsh touch. ”Gently and gracefully.”_

Jisung's head twisted and his fists clenched. The touches felt so real, they still lingered on his skin. The boy shuddered. He already knew what was coming and he didn't want to witness it again.

_"It's not my fault my coordination is horrible," Jisung pouted. "When you do it, it looks smooth and easy, but that's you." He plopped down on the grass with his head in his hands._

_"Stop beating yourself up over that." The taller carefully sat down next to him and gently removed hair out of the shorter's face. "Jisung, you do know how much you mean to me, right?"_

_“I care a lot about you too," he spoke softly, caressing the royal's face. A sinister look flashed over Jisung's face, disappearing just as fast as it appeared. "That's why I'm sorry I have to do this to you."_

It was as if the sleeping boy was watching from the sidelines. _Don't do it_ , he wanted to yell. _Run away…_ He wanted to break into the scene and force the two apart, do anything to stop what was happening, but he was glued to his spot. He was unable to move his limbs, like they had been chained to his mattress. He tried to struggle against them, but that only tightened them.

_Minho, it was Minho. His eyes were wide with confusion, those bright and hopeful eyes, and the shorter went in for the kiss, knowing the male wasn't going to fight it._

_That was when it all went wrong. Darkness twirled around the two, the wind started howling and lightning sparked from the skies. The life was literally being sucked out of the boy and everything seemed to lose color._

_"I-I trusted you," the prince choked out, placing his hand on Jisung's cheek._

_His body jolted and his breath hitched. He fell back lifelessly, eyes still open with betrayal. Just like the dead patches of grass, the light had left his eyes._

_Jisung watched, not even the slightest hint of feeling guilt or regret on his face. He felt euphoric. He looked down at his hands and saw as they turned to dust, leaving nothing but a transparent soul. "Finally."_

His eyes shot open and he gasped for air, desperately clinging onto the sheets. The dim street lights fell on his wrists in a vertical line. They were a sickening purple. The boy pulled his knees to his face, letting the tears fall. Before he knew it he was silently sobbing at what he saw. It was all his fault again. He caused someone's misery. He couldn’t tell if it was reality or if his head was playing tricks on him again.

He rubbed his wrists again. The bruising released a numbing sensation under his touch. His sheets soaked up.

"You look like crap," a dark figure commented mockingly. He was playing with the glowing, red ring on his finger as he stared into the nothingness. That sickening glowing red again. The color made Jisung mad.

"You again," Jisung sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes. He watched as the other walked or floated – he couldn't really see, he still hadn't put in his contacts – in his direction. "I'm honestly starting to think that I've gone insane and that you're just a figment of my imagination."

"Are figments of your imagination able to do this?" the ghost asked before flicking the younger's forehead hardly.

The living boy breathed in with much irritation. He opened his mouth to say something snarky, but held up his finger, leaving the demon confused. "Hold on," the grey haired spoke, hands traveling over his nightstand. "I can't be mad at you if I can't see you. Well, I can, but it’s more enraging if I can see the expressions on your face."

"Why is my future body nearly blind," dead Jisung huffed, definitely floating crisscross apple sauce in the air.

The grey haired rolled his eyes and pursed his lips. "I'm sorry not everyone has 20/20 vision nowadays, but we don't die anymore because of bad eyesight."

"What a waste," the other huffed and shifted in his position. "It would've been so much easier to kill you if it were that way. Couldn't you have been reborn in a different generation?"

"No," the student deadpanned. "It's not up to me when my parents are born and when they create me. Life doesn't work that way."

The ghost thoughtfully placed his finger on his chin. "Okay true," he shrugged, his gaze set on the wall. He clasped his hands, ending his short thinking session. "Looks like I'll just have to do all the dirty work myself, since the Heavens are incapable."

"I know what you're thinking, but I worked really hard to put up that shelf," Jisung sighed, already knowing where the guy's eyes were set on. "Don't you have better things to do? Hobbies? Friends?"

"I've been too dead to have time for that. It’s honestly fascinating how humanity managed to rebuild the Earth like this. I definitely hadn’t expected this much change when I came back," he responded with a roll of his eyes. "Can I continue now?"

"Rather not," the younger boy said, hoping it wasn't obvious he was panicking. "Honestly, we could've gotten along so well if it wasn't for your murderous tendencies."

"Sadly I can't help it either," the demon chuckled. Of course he noticed the other's sweaty palms and shaking pupils, but he liked playing around a lot too. It was like a cat after capturing a mouse, making its last moments into pure agony. He raised a finger. "Sorry, but I have to do this."

Jisung clenched his eyes shut. What power did he, a human, have against a supernatural creature. He was at the verge of tears once again. _Minho, please help. I need you here._

A cloud of shadows and some crackling interrupted the attempted killing. Amidst the whole mess stood Minho, seemingly in the process of getting his top on.

The ghost gasped and cursed softly. He disappeared like snow under the sun, but that wasn't Jisung's biggest concern at the moment.

"Oh my god! Where's your shirt?!" Jisung shrieked and covered his eyes, though secretly he was peeping through his fingers to appreciate the view.

"I was getting dressed! I swear I'm not a pervert!" the elder defended himself, trying to cover his exposed chest from the world. His limbs made some uncontrolled movements, making it look like a silly dance. It wasn't exactly working out for him. Jisung couldn’t deny it wasn’t to his pleasure.

Completely stressing out by now, the ravenet threw on his shirt and straightened it out with a tight smile. "There, all done," he squeaked, blowing his fringe out of his face.

"Never thought I'd see you wear a color other than black, but yellow satin looks good on you," Jisung complimented him, sitting up straight. “Very regal. You could pass as royalty.”

Avoiding the younger's eyes, Minho scratched the back of his head shyly. "Thank you, I guess."

"I guess I interrupted your night rest," the shorter mumbled. He was aimlessly picking at the soft covers when his eyes widened in realization. "What about the deaths at night? If you're asleep, you obviously can't... do your job."

"I don't necessarily need to sleep, but I quite enjoy going limp for eight hours or more," the Reaper replied calmly, noticing how the grey haired hesitated mid-sentence. No matter how easy going the boy may seem about the crazy situation, he still wasn't fully accepting it. “How else should I fill in 24 hours?”

"In that case you can come sleep on my bed and I'll—" Before Jisung could finish what he was saying, the ravenet had already crashed down next to him, snuggled up in the warm covers.

"Okay," Minho smiled the biggest smile to ever exist, looking absolutely precious. "You have an amazing bed, I love it. Although, your mattress is a little thin. I can feel the ribs pressing in my back."

Of course the younger was taken aback, but secretly he was thankful that the elder was by his side for the night. "I suppose this is also fine," he said.

The boy clambered up in a rush, still wrapped up in a blanket burrito. "Are you sure? I don't want to keep you up all night because you're uncomfortable."

Jisung waved him off. "I'm sure, unless you’re going to complain about the mattress again. Now, have you done anything interesting?" he questioned and sat in a way that he could perfectly cuddle the other if necessary.

"Pfft, what's so interesting about me?" Minho huffed. "The most interesting thing that happened is that I finally caught Seungmin and Hyunjin making out in my office. I’ve been betting on them having a secret relationship for a while now and I like being proven correct. Other than that, it's been pretty depressing."

The shorter stretched his lips into a thin, awkward smile. "Want to talk about it?"

"What even is there to talk about? I collect people's souls and erase their memories, but it makes a living," the Reaper tried to laugh it off.

"I was talking about your friends," Jisung giggled in hopes of lifting the elder's spirits. "I want details, come on."

The ravenet pretended to think deeply. "Hmm… nah. I’m trying to remove it from my mind."

The younger smiled sweetly. "Then I'll just have to persuade you," he decided and scooted closer to the taller.

Minho's breath hitched as a pair of arms and legs wrapped themselves around his torso. Turning his head to the left slightly he was met with the sight of Jisung's face squished on his shoulder. He would always be surprised by the boy’s sudden physical affection. The ravenet was at loss for words, so instead of talking he poked the boy's cheek.

Jisung scowled and lifted his head. "Why would you do that?"

"It was tempting," the Reaper shrugged and sneakily tried to do it again, but the shorter swatted his hand away in annoyance.

"Don't you dare," he warned, gaze gliding over to Minho's exposed shoulder. The delicate black pattern decorating the elder's skin caught his eye in particular. "Wow."

Minho frowned at the sudden change of the mood. "What is it—" He broke off his sentence when he noticed what the boy was looking at. His face faltered and he hurriedly covered it by pulling up his shirt. "I don't think it's that 'wow'," he muttered dejectedly.

"If it doesn't make you uncomfortable, could I see them?" the gray haired asked carefully, detaching himself from Minho. "It's okay to say no, I'll understand."

"It's fine, I have to stop running from myself," the ravenet reasoned and inhaled deeply. Shakily he started unbuttoning his top, letting the shiny material hitting the ground almost soundlessly, but to Minho it sounded like a thunderous thud.

He didn't dare to meet Jisung's gaze; he felt so vulnerable and exposed. He was letting this random kid tear down his walls so easily, his only protection. This human knew more about him by now than the people he considered friends and it was scaring him.

The design on his back wasn't something he was proud of, but the grey haired looked at it with such a great fascination. The drawn feathers decorating Minho's body from his shoulders up to his lower back, some of the feathers were stuck on his upper arms.

"That's beautiful, you're beautiful," Jisung whispered, getting up closer. He didn't become scared of the Reaper or disgusted, it was more as if he was in awe of him. “I actually wanted to get a tattoo too, sometime.”

Minho didn’t react. He instead played with the fabric in his hand. It was smooth and stroked his skin softly. It eased his mind slightly and soothed the burning in his neck once again.

"I know it's hard, but you're worth so much more than you let on," Jisung mumbled.

Having to look down to look him in the eyes, Minho turned to face the shorter. "I'm sorry," he spoke softly, "but I just don't see it myself."

"Then let me help you see it," the grey haired responded, taking another step closer, noses barely touching. "I want to end this crazy mess too and I'm fully aware I need you for that, but I'm not a user. I want to give you something in return too."

Their heads moved closer. "I trust you," the Reaper spoke with a warning undertone. Never in his life had he been this serious about something, nor had he been this open.

A sickening feeling of déjà vu hit the pit of Jisung's stomach, but he ignored it. "We'll talk it over tomorrow, right now I need to sleep."

"Well, this is probably the worst decision I've ever made, so you better not make me regret it," Minho uttered, but his smile told it all.

Jisung didn't know what kind of confidence washed over him, but before he knew it he got up on his tippy toes and kissed the taller's nose. "I wouldn't dare." He winked and spun on his heel, just in time to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks.

Minho just stood there, his mouth agape. When he had processed what just happened, the younger had already made a run for the bedroom as was now embarrassedly pressing his face into his pillow, silently screaming.

The Reaper chuckled at the boy's adorable behavior and followed after him.

<><><>

Once Jisung woke up, the spot next to him was empty. He placed his hand where Minho used to lie, hoping he could still feel the other's warmth, but the cold patch told him that the latter had disappeared a long time ago.

Still half asleep, he stumbled toward his bathroom with a sigh, but the sight in his mirror immediately washed away all the traces of sleep. Jisung was definitely wide awake now. His eyes were swollen and his nose was puffy from all the crying.

"Damn it," he whined, leaning closer to see if his reflection might be lying. "I still have classes today."

He banged his head against the mirror a few times. "Why? Just why must the Heavens hate me?"


	17. 16

"So, I'm dead," the old man with thick rimmed glasses spoke unsurely, sinking back into the chair with crossed arms.

"Yep," the Reaper replied flatly and continued making tea. These situations had occurred many times before and Minho was no longer fazed by them. The hot water steamed his face before the kettle whistled. The sound bounced off the walls in the acoustic of the area.

"And that was my corpse," the male continued, the image of his body that was twisted in an uncomfortable position flashing by. He frowned and awkwardly shifted in his seat.

The ravenet nodded, pouring two cups and making his way to his desk. "Yep."

"Something tells me you're not the personable type." The man watched carefully as the he sat down and placed the drinks down a little too aggressively.

"Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Lee Sooman, but nobody's got time for that," Minho snapped and checked his files, gasping at the upsetting surprise. "Dear lord..."

"Is there a problem?" Sooman asked with raised eyebrows, attempting to sneak a peek at the papers, but the Reaper pulled them away with a glare.

“You’re pretending like you don’t know,” he said.

“I don’t, the man replied immediately.

"Listen, you were horrid. I don't want your memories," the younger looking male hissed, leaning onto his desk. "Mistreating others for your own benefit, what were you thinking? Are human rights worth that money? Don't you feel any remorse toward these people, the youngest was only a teenager."

The male shrugged indifferently. "I don't think it's my fault it turned out that way," he smugly spoke.

“Listen, I’m not here to bash you,” Minho replied, folding his hands. “I’m just giving you time to think through and realize your mistakes. As far as I’m concerned, other’s health and happiness can’t be bought.”

“It’s business,” the man defended himself. “I gave the public what they wanted.”

The Reaper had to restrain himself from hitting him then and there How he hated people like that. He motioned for the Sooman to come closer and whispered in his ear: "You don't seem to regret it, so I guess you'll have to live with those memories and worse until you do."

Before the man could utter a word, Minho had grabbed him by the collar and flashed them away to reappear at the side of a river.

"Wait, no, I can explain!" the elder male spluttered as a poor attempt to save himself, but the raven haired kept a blank expression and kept the man dangling above the clashing waters.

"You should've remembered that you're in my domain. I have all the power over you here. You really shouldn't have annoyed me like that.”

“Please, no!”

“Goodbye, sir," with that said he dropped the deceased into the stream, his screams falling deaf on his ears. He watched the current take him away, the man struggling to keep his head above. The Reaper knew he would never be able to. He would drown in his sins for eternity.

Minho stayed silent after the man had disappeared into the distance. He was numbed again. He stared into the black waters where all the damned souls were sent to and let out a somber breath. As his reflection wavered he wonder if perhaps he was supposed to be drowning in there too, but they had decided to spare him. He was just a puppet being played.

Noticing light coming from his right side, he turned his head only to see his friend.

"Chan," he sighed and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his long, black coat. "What is it they need?"

"I have a free will too, you know," the angel chuckled to lighten the mood. " _They_ don't need anything, but _I_ do. I need to see if you're alright."

"I'm fine," the Reaper answered, although he couldn't even convince himself. His tone was so downcast and he couldn't even fake a smile.

Chan shook his head and patted his friend's shoulder. "You're not and that's okay. Penny for your thoughts?"

There was a short but heavy silence. The temperature dropped slightly and the blond shuddered. So he was in one of those mood again.

"I have your memories, you know," Minho cut the tension, deciding to go straight to the point. He seemed unaffected by the cold as he bore holes into the waves.

Chan smiled solemnly and threw an arm around the boy. "Yeah, I know," he confessed and poked the other's cheek when his jaw dropped open.

"Don't you want to know more?" Minho quaked, eyes as big as saucers. "I feel a little betrayed at this surprise."

The angel laughed at that, his dimples showing. "What do you think of me then? You decided to tell me just now, how many years after my death?"

"We don't keep track of that after we hit a century," the Reaper retorted dryly, but he let out a little giggle too.

"Anyways, I'd rather not know anything at all," the shorter – Minho was very proud of those few inches more – replied and stared off into the distance. The clouds were a dark grey and there was no hint of color in the land under it. "Sometimes remembering is way worse than forgetting. Why do you think the damned have to face their past for even after death?" 

"You really know how to comfort people," the ravenet sighed and shortly embraced the angel, causing the other's eyes to widen in amazement. Minho was never the one to indicate hugs and even if it was over before Chan could process it, it was quite a development.

"How's the Han Jisung dilemma going, by the way?" the blond quickly questioned to change the subject. Also, he was just really curious about that. Nothing like that had ever happened in his years of being the head angel.

"It's still in process, he just doesn't wanna die and I can't kill him," the Reaper answered plainly, his eyes dull.

"Mentally can't or physically?" the shorter asked his friend, trying to find his friend's eyes.

"Both," Minho mumbled, looking down at his hands. “Physically can’t because he has a guardian angel. I don’t know who it is, but he’s a strong one.”

“I can find that out for you,” Chan offered. “Now, how about mentally?”

Minho weakly smiled. "I've grown way too attached to him, but I think that I'm going to chase my own happiness this time. Even if they decide to actually kill me for this, I don't care anymore. I've been around for way too long."

"Are you sure this is what you want?" the other male inquired carefully. He didn't want to upset the other even more.

"I deserve to feel what living feels like," the ravenet stated confidently, as if he'd already decided this was what he was going to do and nobody could change his mind, "and you do too."

The other cast him a worried glance. "Just think it over well, you don't want to regret it later on."

"I'm sorry, Chan," the Reaper apologized, putting on his hat. "I have to go, he needs me."

The angel sighed sadly after Minho had vanished. "Why would you get yourself in trouble now of all times."

<><><>

"Are you really not going to take off the sunglasses?" Felix questioned Jisung for the nth time that day and stuffed the last bit of his sandwich in his mouth. "Also, have you been avoiding me?"

"Don't talk when your mouth is full," the shorter scolded, lightly smacking the other over the head. "And I'm going to keep these babies on my head because I look like absolute shit."

"When do you not?" the Australian retorted with a roll of his eyes.

"Excuse you?" the elder asked, offended, but he was happy the other didn't notice he didn't answer his other question. "I am beauty, I am grace and I will not hesitate to punch you in the face."

"No need to get aggressive," the orange haired one spoke, placing his hands on the other's shoulders to calm him down. "It can't be that bad right?"

"Oh yes it can," Jisung chuckled darkly and pulled off the glasses, revealing his puffy and bloodshot eyes. "Boom."

The younger let out a gasp. "Did you cry that much?" he asked in concern and caressed his best friend's face. "Do I need to fight anyone? Drop the name and I will."

"Is it that obvious?" the grey haired responded, mind flashing to himself desperately rubbing his eyes with water over and over again. "Nobody needs to be beaten up, don't worry. Life's just a little... rough at the moment. I'll be okay."

"You always say that, but you don't need to try and be alright on your own. I'm here for you too, no matter how many times you try to crash my apartment," Felix pouted and stole one of the boy's grapes. "You want to stay over at mine for a while."

He'd love to, he wanted to tell the taller over and over again, but it would be too dangerous. He didn't want to drag his best friend into this mess too. "I don't think I can, I have a lot of projects due and music theory to study," he answered instead, his heart quenching when the younger's face fell.

"It's alright," the Australian answered, biting his lip. "Education is very important."

"I promise we'll do something together soon," Jisung tried to comfort him, because Felix was a whole ray of sunshine and if he was sad the whole world was obliged to feel sad too. "You're more important than school, it's just that I have to make up for all the classes I missed."

Felix shook his head and hugged the elder. "No, I understand, it's just that I'm worried about you. I need to go to class now, see you later?"

The shorter smiled and nodded. "See you later."

Felix was about to walk off, when he suddenly turned around. Jisung frowned while he dug around inside his backpack. He grinned widely when he found it. “Here, make good use of it. I’m running late now, so bye!”

Jisung waved after him, the makeup palette hugged against his chest. What an angel.

A few minutes after the orange haired had left, Jisung got up too to get some music history books, but before that he quickly went to the bathroom. He checked his reflection in the mirror, checking his face from all different angles. He still looked bad, but at least the swell died down even just the slightest.

“He knows I can’t do this,” Jisung mumbled to himself. Nonetheless he was going to make an attempt. A little something was better than nothing.

He splashed water in his face a few time, but when he looked at his reflection once again he was something suspicious in the background. The red glowing of a ring already told him enough.

"Hello, demon," the boy greeted the figure and spun around on his heel, leaning onto the sink, "is it that time again?"

"It's no fun if you don't get scared," the ghost complained, taking a step forward out of the shadows. "I'm not a demon, that kind of hurt my feelings."

"Then what are you?" Jisung asked, cocking an eyebrow. When the thing stayed silent, he chuckled darkly. "See, you don't know it either. You’re like my sleep paralysis demon, so you gave that title to yourself."

"What are you trying to say with that?" the long haired scowled and crossed his arms, coming closer and closer.

"Do you even know why you're trying to kill me?" the grey haired spoke, leaning back slightly when the ghost's face came a little too close to his. "All those times before, it was you, wasn't it? Pushing me over the edge of my balcony, dropping things in the hope they'd fall on top of me, I can go on."

The other smirked and dusted the younger's shirt off. "Hmm, indirectly, yes."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jisung growled, trying to pry the dead's hands off, but the grip only tightened. The boy faintly winced, however his glare only hardened. "Let me go."

"Don't be like that," the ghost tutted and abruptly clasped his hand around the younger's neck, digging in his sharp nails. Pressing him against the mirror and lifting him up slightly, he snarled: "Why won't you just die?"

"Because I won't let him." Out of the shadows stepped the Grim Reaper, a hat covering his eyes. You were still able to see that his jaw was clenched, as were his fists.

The tormenter sucked in a breath and for the first time Jisung could see genuine fear in his eyes. If he hadn't been choking and struggling for air, he would've made a snarky remark about it. Noticing how the other was distracted, he used up his remaining energy and kicked the ghost where the sun doesn't shine.

Instantly he let the boy go as he doubled over in pain, causing the boy's head to collide with the edge of the sink. The grey haired touched the side of his head with a shaking hand and his breath hitched. Blood. So much blood was flowing down his face, but at least his skull didn't crack.

"Jisung!" With a panic-stricken look in his eyes, Minho zapped over to him. He ripped a cloth out of his pocket and gave it to the younger. He then pressed it against the wound together with Jisung’s hand. "Hold this against it and don't move. I'll take care of that thing. You're not going to die today."

"Before you do anything to me, I know things about you," the demon uttered smugly, though he was still conscious of how dangerous the ravenet could be.

"I don't believe you," the Reaper stated, his eyes narrowing due to the wariness he felt.

"Then maybe you should check on that with that sweet little secretary of yours." Minho's look of betrayal caused the soul smiled sweetly. "I'm out."

The boy couldn't care less about that demon right now. Without thinking he ran back to Jisung, who was turning paler each second. He crouched down next to him and moved his hands away to examine the wound.

"Please don't pass out," the elder begged when he wiped the blood away with some water.

Jisung giggled weakly, but grimaced as soon as the other touched his head. "Can't promise anything, I can't handle blood for shit. I'm pretty sure it's not the injury that's making me feel lightheaded."

"You're lucky I kept the pack of plasters in my pocket from the first time we met," Minho grinned, taking out the a cotton and putting disinfectant on it. "You know the drill."

"Stinging, yep," the shorter replied, already shutting his eyes tightly. "I'm ready."

He pushed the boys bangs out of the way and immediately felt relief. Although. That didn’t mean there wasn’t any internal damage. He’d have to observe that for himself, he decided.

The ravenet clapped his hand, pleased at what a great job he had done once again. "It's a small cut, you'll survive. I am going to take you home, because you shouldn't exert all your effort right now."

"I'm not helpless," the grey haired protested and tried to get up, but the Reaper pushed him back down with his finger.

"I insist," the elder argued, smirking when an idea shot into mind. "Besides, you like teleporting, right?"

"Fuck, I do," Jisung cursed under his breath and held his hands out for the other to pick him up. "I've been convinced, take me home, Mr. Reaper."

"As you wish, Han Jisung," Minho responded, carrying the boy over to the shadows. "Hold on tight, we're going to disappear from this world for a while."

The younger beamed at him and clung onto the taller's neck. "Take me away."

Falling backwards into the shadows together, they forgot about all the worries that life brought. They were free, even if it was just a split second. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i drag sment?? well... can't spell embarrassment without it-


	18. 17

"Hyunjin, can you please leave? Seungmin and I need to talk about something."

The two boys stared up in disbelief, both quite annoyed that their cuddling session was cut short. Seungmin switched the television off and clenched his jaw. "You can't just barge in like that," he spoke through gritted teeth. "That's just plain rude."

"I swear this is important," Minho assured him, his tone desperate.

"Then why can't I stay?" Hyunjin asked with cocked eyebrow, still clinging onto his now boyfriend's back like a koala. "If it's that important, shouldn't the Council be informed?"

"As much I trust you, Hyunjin, I don't trust the Heavens one bit," he commented. "So could you please leave us? We must fix this matter as soon as possible."

It seemed as if he needed a little more convincing. He acted as if his feet were glued to the floor as he stubbornly stayed in place.

Minho sighed, “This isn’t a matter the Council should be involved with. It’ll only blow it way out of proportion.”

"Fine," the angel huffed and gave Seungmin a short peck on the cheek. "I'll come back when you're done."

With that the boy dispersed into a little cloud of little feathers and dust, scattering it all over the redhead's floor, but he didn't seem to mind that at the moment. The only thing his attention was set on was his boss.

Minho awkwardly leaned onto the counter of what was now Seungmin's apartment and cleared his throat, as if that would shake off the younger's icy glare. "How's your new place?" he said as a poor attempt at small talk.

Seungmin pulled his lip up, a mix of annoyance and disgust on his features. "I don't know if you noticed," he spat, "but it's quite a shabby. My ceiling is actually crying and I can hear every movement in the entire building. If this person next door doesn't get medication for his allergies soon I will–"

"Calm down there, feisty pants," the elder cut him off and gently pushed him toward the 'living area'. "I came here for a civil conversation, I really don't need your death threats right." 

"Well, please have a seat, I really hope the chair collapses," the redhead glared and dropped onto his used couch with a huff.

The ravenet bit his lip and took the seat across of the boy, praying it was the good one. "Do you know about this– I actually don't know what it is myself, so let's call it ghost. Have you heard?" he asked the younger, whose face visible darkened.

Seungmin's shoulders slumped and his body expression turned hostile, already having a hunch as to what the Reaper was aiming at. "What are you talking about?" he replied to clear his suspicions.

"There's this creature who's out for Jisung's soul," Minho explained, fumbling with his hands. "There's also been news that a ghost has broken into Heaven."

The secretary's eyes turned dull. The air turned even more tense and they both knew that this was serious. "Of course I know," he answered gloomily. "How could I forget who possessed me and took advantage of my abilities."

"How did I not know that?! How did that happen?! The elder practically shot forward, examining the younger for any injuries.

"Because you were too focused on the Jisung-dilemma and didn't have eye for your environment, still don't," stated the younger with a small undertone of frustration.

"Tell me all about what happened," the Reaper demanded hastily, completely missing what his friend was trying to tell him.

Seungmin sighed, knowing that Minho would stay dense as he was. "You sent me for Jisung and then he popped up and just took over. I was mentally screaming for him to let me go, but my own body was turned against me–" The boy's voice cracked, but he wouldn't let his tears go that easily. "I was terrified, but for some reason he decided I wasn't worth using anymore."

Minho stayed silent for a brief moment, taking in what happened to the redhead. It was a horrible experience and Minho was clueless about it. What a crappy friend he was.

"I met him and… he did tell me to talk to you," the ravenette carefully brought up, watching the male's expressions change from blank to skeptical. "He didn't tell me much, only that he knew stuff about me and to ask you about it."

"I don't think I can help you with that," Seungmin replied quickly, too quickly for the elder not to get wary. The younger boy stood up and wiped his hands on his pants, a habit he had when he was nervous. "I think you should leave–"

"What is your special power?" That question caught the other off guard. Seungmin felt his heart drop, wondering if Minho really didn’t know. Seungmin mustn’t mean that much to him if he cared that little.

"You're quite self-centered," the redhead snapped, still trying to keep himself in tow. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before continuing. "You've known me for so long and you've never bothered to even ask me about it."

"It's not that I didn't bothered, it just never crossed my mind," the Reaper spluttered in defence. "My attention was always fixed on other things."

"Yeah, things like desperately trying to find the past life that you'll never be able to find." As soon as the words left Seungmin's mouth, he regretted them. The disbelief and betrayal that painted the ravenet's features was something the boy would never want to be responsible for, yet here they were.

"What… what do you mean by that?" the taller stuttered, blinking excessively and pressing his lips together tightly. The area around them dimmed, lights flickering. "Did you know all this time? We're you just letting me chase after a dead end?"

The secretary pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and walked over to Minho, rubbing his back as a way of awkward comfort. He wasn't the best at it, but he hoped it would help. The elder always acted quite distant and rarely let people in. It was easy for Seungmin to forget how emotional the male actually was.

"Listen, I can restore what you take from people," the shorter clarified with an audible sigh. "You take people's memories and if the Council decides your judgment was wrong they call me to return them as eternal torture."

"Why don't you just restore your own memories?" the Reaper questioned, expression hopeful. "You have the ability to, so why didn't you—"

"I can't do that," Seungmin muttered, casting his eyes away from the other. He twiddled his thumbs anxiously. "You know how both our memories have personally been removed by the Council."

'Oh," came Minho's reply, sinking further down the chair. "Did they? I can't remember."

"There is another issue, though," the younger spoke, rushed. He changed the subject and hoped it would take the male's mind off this. "Give me your hands."

"Seungmin you have a boyfriend," the Reaper chimed to lift the mood, though his voice still trembled.

"This is not the time for jokes," the younger spoke tightly, snatching the dark haired's hands in his, closing his eyes. Minho knew nothing but to simply follow the boy's actions.

The scene that filled his mind felt horrifyingly stunning. It was as if it was a memory of his own. He was living it, feeling the surrounding, hearing every word and seeing every movement, yet the people in it didn't experience his presence.

He was in the familiar office at the top of the elevator. The delicate carvings that symbolized mundane suffering and the sketchy bookshelf showed it was the Council's meeting room.

Minho watched with wide eyes, catching sight of Seungmin sitting across a well known woman, with flowing black hair and the most ethereal face. _Sunmi_. He silently followed their interactions, the feeling of disgust in the back of his head.

"Seungmin," the female spoke melodically, catching the boy's attention. "Do you have any idea as to why I called you here?"

Seungmin let off a tiny shrug as response, not daring to meet her stormy eyes, which challenged you to say the wrong thing and deal with her consequences.

"Oh, dear," she chuckled coldly, threateningly twirling her pen like she could stab him with it any moment.

 _What a scary lady_ , the Reaper thought, but didn't rip his stare away. He was way into this, he kind of felt like he was watching one of those dramas Seungmin liked. Something about goblins, he recalled.

"Seungmin, why are you still letting Minho boss you around?" Sunmi continued. "All that he is, is a mere stand-in."

"What are you implying?" the redhead asked, deciding this was the right time to open his mouth. He curiously leaned forward. "A stand-in for who?"

"A stand-in for you," the lady grinned widely, exposing here pearly white teeth. She would’ve been even more beautiful if it had been real. "You, sweetheart, are the real deal."

Minho didn't know if he was cringing at the nickname or the sentence she just uttered. The only thing he was sure about turned out to be a lie too; weren't the Heavens great. The boy heaved a sigh, feeling too numb to be sad. The white walls of the room were a perfect contrast to what the Reaper was feeling.

"Actually, Sunmi, _sweetheart_ , they're both replacements for me," a taunting voice butted in. "I wondered how long it would take for Minho to find out that you lied to keep him in tow. The only reason he followed your orders is because he thinks you created him."

"How did you get back up here?" the woman spoke dangerously calmly, slowly getting up, hands moving to her back. "You've been banned, it should be impossible."

"I have my ways," the one and only Jisung-demon mused, stepping out of the shadows. His ring shone brighter than ever. "It was the reason I messed up your gathering in the first place."

"Get out," Sunmi demanded alarmingly. Her eyes darkened with each step she took. "I suggest you follow my orders before I do something bad."

"What do you know about Minho?" the ghost fired back confidently.

"Why do people always barge in to ask questions, Jesus. We have a message box. Use it." The angel rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner. "We've done so well protecting him from you up till now and I'm not letting that work go to waste," she hissed, glaring holes in the creature's skull.

"You should've tried harder," the male mocked. "Because I'm already ruining him now."

With a furious scream Sunmi drew hew blade – where’d she get that from? – and slashed right through the demon's body, but it was useless. The sickening laughs still echoed off the wall as its body turned to mist. The female fell to her knees, letting the sword clatter on the floor and buried her head in her hands.

Then it all turned black. Minho opened his eyes again, squinting when the light hit his view. "Seungmin," he whispered. "Why is it that the more I get to know, the more parts I lose of myself?"

"It'll turn out fine." Anyone could hear that the redhead had his doubts too, but the ravenet appreciated his efforts.

"It won't." The Grim Reaper, or whatever title he had, smiled downheartedly and got up and went for the doorway. "Thank you for showing me."

He locked the exit behind him and strolled down the halls, letting his legs drag him to his personal getaway. He rang the doorbell of the apartment impatiently. After nine the door was finally opened by an annoyed Jisung. His hair was fluffy and he was wearing what could be labeled as 'homey clothes'.

However, when the boy saw who it was all that irritation was replaced by surprise. "Minho?" he gasped. "What are you doing at my door? Why didn't you just 'poof' in like usual?"

"I wanted to be polite today," the taller replied, brushing past younger to enter and immediately dropped onto the couch with a loud groan. He buried his face into the pillow deeply. "I want the world to go away."

"Uhm, I don't really know what to say about this, but hang in there buddy," Jisung answered uncertainly before disappearing into his kitchen.

The ravenet lifted his head tiredly, a sight that really tested how fast the grey haired's heart could beat before it exploded. "Is your plant still hanging in there?"

"Mr. Charleston?" Jisung chortled dryly and sarcastically, placing down two packs of chocolate milk. "Pretty much dead, I've been afraid to go onto my balcony since that incident and ladders aren’t an option either."

"May he rest in peace, I guess," Minho replied flatly, before letting the cushions consume him again.

"What made you like this?" the younger whiningly questioned and shook the older male's body. "Tell me! I'll protect you from them; I'll fight them all off."

The only way his marvelous offer was acknowledged was with muddled mumbles, so the shorter had no choice but to flop onto the elder. "Cheer up," he singsonged.

"No, I want to be sad right now," the Reaper gloomily announced, not budging at the extra weight on top of him.

Jisung's lips curled upwards warmly. "Then I'll cuddle you till you're not."

"Do it, coward," Minho challenged, still refusing to move a muscle. His heart leaped an itsy-bitsy leap when the younger boy pulled him up and wrapped his body around the elder like a shield that would protect him from the outside world.

"You dared me to, so this is all your fault," the grey haired reasoned and nuzzled his face into the taller's neck.

"I can live with that," the elder shrugged. "Your hugs are amazing. Why do we always lowkey end up cuddling when we're together?"

"I honestly don't know, but I can't say I hate it." Jisung honestly loved Minho's presence way too much for it to be healthy and he always felt kind of lonely when he wasn't around. The apartment would feel so empty when the other male wasn't there.

After a short while both separated and were now contently sipping on their drink packets.

"Today nothing life threatening was happening to me," Jisung broke the silence leaning on the back of the sofa. "Mr. Reaper, I'm really starting to think that me nearly dying every day is just your excuse to see me."

Minho's mouth formed an 'O'. "No! I'm really just doing my job!"

"Hush, you ruined it now. I’m still going to finish it, though," the younger boy shut him up and cleared his throat. "'Cause if it is, could you please use a different method, like calling me?"

The ravenet's lips broke into an affectionate smile. "That was smooth, give me your phone."


	19. 18

A huge construction of pillows and blankets was messily created on the floor with a laptop playing some movies in front of the fort. In the middle of it all a freckled boy was gently stroking another boy's head, his hair a fading grey. Surrounded by a million snacks, both had lost interest in the film and were casually talking about anything and everything.

Yes, Jisung and Felix decided on having a sleepover. Huddled up together, all cozy and comfortable.

"Hey, Jisung," Felix started, braiding the other's locks with the deepest concentration.

Jisung only hummed in response, letting his best friend do whatever he wanted with his hair. It had grown to such a length that it was always in his eyes and tickling his neck. He refused to go to the haircutter though; who knew what might happen. His eyes remained glued to the screen while he sluggishly shoved a handful of chips in his mouth.

"You've been so distant lately. Is it something I said?" A small pout formed on the Australian's mouth. He let go of the strands and laid his hands on his lap, consciously picking at his fingers.

Jisung's frowned, biting his bottom lip. "Is that how I made you feel?" he asked, sitting up now. He scooted over to the now blond boy and slung an arm around his shoulder. "I promise it wasn't you. Things are a little hectic, but it'll be fine."

"You always say that," the younger mumbled, still feeling guilty for something he probably didn't cause. "How do I know you're actually okay? You're always smiling."

"Trust me, you won't be getting rid of me anytime soon, bubby," the other boy reassured him, grinning widely, smushing his cheek against him. "Han Jisung is invincible, not even death can beat me."

"Getting cocky now, aren't we," Felix muttered, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. However, the suppressed smile couldn't be missed.

Jisung struck a dramatic pose, index finger resting on his nose bridge and eyes closed. "I can see it clearly: I'll be sticking onto you like a leech till the end of time and you'll still be cursing me out."

"Shut up and give me the gummies, loser," the blond snorted, with a shake of his head. "Also, turn off this crap. I've lost the story line, like, an hour ago."

"That's when the movie started playing," the elder stated dryly, but he was rather bored of it too. He dropped back down onto the soft pillows and snuggled up in a random blanket.

"More the reason to switch it off," the Australian concluded, flinging his body over to the laptop, landing with a thud. "We've done nothing but lie on the floor since nine."

"Remember when we had energy to do stuff?" the shorter commented lightly, rolling onto his friend and laughing evilly when he groaned in pain. "I miss elementary school."

"We didn't know each other yet back then, you were in Malaysia and I was still in Australia," Felix replied, desperately trying to get the grey haired off by kicking and pushing him. It didn't work; the boy was indeed invincible.

"Okay, but high school was shit," Jisung responded, laying as still as a statue. "Don't you dare say it wasn't, it only seems that way because college is even worse."

"Indeed, why did we decide to become artists?" Felix uttered. After several failed attempts he finally accepted that the older wasn't going to budge, instead wrapping his arms around him like a koala.

"Because it made us happy at that time," came Jisung's response. He spun off the boy again so he could face him. "Hey, Lix, I'm grateful to have you in my life."

The younger faked some sniffles and wiped away his feigned tears, but inside he was genuinely touched. "I wouldn't change a thing about us, fucker."

It was these rare moments where the two got a little more personal with things that they appreciated the most. As the hours ticked by, they continued talking till they both passed out. Though the clock showed it was three AM, the night had only begun.

Twitching and muttering, the grey haired boy clutched his blankets so tightly his knuckles turned white.

The hazy dream was starting to get old now. Jisung had seen it countless of times now and it didn't faze him as much as it once used to. However, something felt off this time. The aura felt eerier than ever.

The soft whining from next to him caused Felix to shift and sneak a peek. "Jisung? What's wrong?" He groggily sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Did you have a nightmare?

The other didn't respond to him, trapped his own bête noire. It's ugly claws digging into his mind and making it impossible for the boy to escape.

A shiny object caught the boy's attention, as well as the matching glint in the eyes of his other self. Evil, cunning and treacherous.

The claws dug in deeper, causing miserable whines leaving the young male. _Look at what you did,_ it growled in a snarky manner. _Feel that guilt? That hatred for yourself? Watch._

"Sung? Wake up, it can't hurt you." Felix' deep voice was a distant whisper and couldn't reach. Even when his friend shook his body, there was nothing he could do. His limbs were nailed onto the floor by every depreciating word.

_"You're too good for this world," Jisung drawled, subtle mock lacing his tone._

_"What are you trying with that?" The young prince scrunched up his nose in confusion._

Watching the whole kissing scene again caused the dreaming boy's heart to twinge slightly. Jealousy, a cruel combination of fear and jealousy washed over him and it felt horrible.

_The shorter boy smirked and it all happened within a split second. A bright flash of silver followed by a cry of pain._

_A curved blade was harshly pushed into Minho's back, with the other boy smirking in triumph. "Goodbye, love."_

Jisung's eyes shot open and with shaky hands he reached for his phone, dialing the exact person he’d seen go in his sleep. An answer, after all those nights.

"Jisung?! What's going on?! Who are you calling?!" The elder ignored his friend's worried exclaims and focused on the beeps.

After three rings he picked up. "Minho? I think I may know how you died..."

"Died?!" the blond yelled, but it fell silent on his friend's ears. 

"I'm heading over to you right this instant." The line went dead and out of a cloud of black feathers and smoke two gentle hands placed themselves on the student's shoulders.

Jisung weakly glanced up and met the Reaper's deep onyx eyes. "Don't tell me yet, we need to take care of you first. You're upset."

"Why do you always take care of me? I feel so useless," the grey haired spoke under his breath, but accepted the taller's embrace nonetheless.

"You're a human stuck in an inhumane situation," the ravenet comforted the shorter with a sad smile. "You're so strong for not going insane. I definitely wouldn't be able to do that."

So caught up in their little moment, the pair forgot about a certain Australian who was now wide awake. "Uh, excuse me what the fuck!" Felix exclaimed, bewildered. Any sane person would be: a grown ass man just teleported into his living room and apparently his best friend knew this dude.

"Can someone tell me why a person appeared into my house and littered my floor?!" The boy pursed his lips before grabbing a pillow and screaming into it.

"Lix! I can explain!" Jisung blabbered, eyes as wide as saucers. "Please stop smothering yourself!"

He took hold of the pillow in an attempt to pry it off, however Felix _insisted_ on screaming into it. It was then that Jisung realized the boy had an iron grip. Not only did the pillow move, also Felix’ entire body got pulled forward.

Minho awkwardly got up. "I'll get you both a glass of water."

"Hold up, stay right where you are," the boy spoke into the pillow with one arm raised. The boy dressed in black obeyed and the blond squinted his eyes. "You're the dog curser. You really thought I could forget you."

"I was having a bad day, don't remind me," Minho quickly responded and disappeared into the kitchen.

"As for you, spill it," the Australian spat, crossing his arms as he glared holes into the other's head.

"I don't know how much I can tell," the elder softly answered, avoiding his friend's sharp gaze. "I don't want you to get involved in this mess and get hurt. I also don’t want to make it worse for myself either."

"Fire away, I can take quite some," the blond said through gritted teeth.

Jisung sighed and rubbed his face in frustration. "I can't—"

"I got water," Minho interrupted the conversation, placing the glasses on the tiny table next to the couch and sat down on the floor with them. “H2O, stay hydrated, kids.”

"Damn it, Minho," the grey haired grumbled, "you got feathers everywhere. I thought you didn't like them."

"It just happened when I was sleeping and it hurt," Minho pouted childishly, loving the affection he was getting. It wasn't lied, his wings unfolded and it hurt like hell. It happened a lot recently.

"God, should I check?" Before the Reaper could answer, the younger was already fussing over his sweater and lifted it up to inspect the damage.

"Perv," the ravenet commented, but winced in discomfort when he felt pressure on his still open wounds.

"When did you learn that word?" the shorter asked to lighten the mood, because those cuts were nasty ones. “You were talking like a middle-aged dad a while ago.”

The taller chuckled to mask his pain. "That word already existed long before you did."

Felix cleared his throat and coughed rather loudly. "Yes, hi, still here and wanting to know what the fuck is going on."

Minho and Jisung shared a look, before the elder nodded in approval.

"Basically I'm being assassinated," the boy explained bluntly, patiently waiting for his friend to process it.

The youngest of the trio blinked with raised eyebrows. "I'm going to close my eyes and when I wake up this was all a dream," he decided, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Jisung exhaled downheartedly. "Felix—"

"No." He pulled up the blankets and turned around so his back faced them. "A dream."

Both knew the boy wasn't going to be able to sleep, but they had something important to discuss. The shorter carefully picked the blond up and onto his back. "You can go to my apartment, I'll take him to bed."

After carrying the boy to his bedroom with much difficulty and tucking him in, the grey haired silently shut the door and headed home. There he was met with Minho sitting at his table with a dim light illuminating his delicate features.

"What did you see?" he questioned grimly, staring straight ahead. "You don't have to tell me all, but what do you mean?"

The boy slid onto the chair facing the ravenet, forcing him to look at him. "Minho, do you use scythes?"

"There was this one thing I read in the Council's library..." he trailed off, trying his best to remember the words. "That book, I think it has answers."

Jisung frowned at what he said. "Council?" he asked, confused. He was still new to the whole _'I am death and have been assigned to your soul_ \- situation and had a huge lack of information.

"The people running the Heavens," the Reaper retorted shortly, staring at the younger's face, "but I don't think they can be trusted. They've lied to me for four hundred years straight and I've developed some trust issues."

Jisung watched how his dark eyes were illuminated by the subtle lighting, noticing how the edges glinted more than the rest. He took the elder's hands in his. "I promise I won't pull such a move on you," he whispered sincerely. "Could you please tell me what you know about Grim Reapers?"

Minho sniffled, but he wasn't going to cry. "Firstly, it's said that Grim Reapers each have a personal power they possess. I, for example, can erase memories and Seungmin can return them."

"Wait, there are multiple Reapers?" the grey haired asked, engrossed into the subject. So engrossed he didn't notice how he would lean forward more and more.

"Yep, that's the next point, but I don't know why. I think it’s mainly because we can’t be everywhere at once. I’m not too sure, so I'll skip that," the ravenet clarified, pressing his lips together. "Next, we're technically dead, but we can get injured by a certain type of steel. It's rare to find and probably created by the Heavens to keep us in tow."

"But then the scythe could be real," the younger gasped, gaze darting everywhere. "That means my dream could be real."

"Exactly," Minho agreed, nodding. "Could you explain your dream to me?"

"Don't be weirded out," the boy started, running his hand trough his hair uncomfortably, "but you and the ghost guy kissed."

"Come again?" The taller's expression was blank, but his mind and heart were racing. He died because of a kiss? Lame. At least Romeo and Juliet made it more dramatic.

"You kissed and then he rammed a curved blade into your back," Jisung clarified tugging at a loose thread on his pajama. "There was black smoke everywhere and Jisung's body dissolved and you… you were gone."

A curved blade? A little less lame. _Focus, Minho, that's not the point._

"How exactly did the blade look?" Seeing the shorter hesitate, he pleadingly looked into the other's eyes. "Try to remember as best as you can," he begged.

"It was curved..." Jisung saw the Reaper's face drop into a deadpan look, causing him to stifle a laugh. "There were these delicate, curly carvings and the handle was this ebony black. It wasn't too big, maybe hand size."

Though his hand motions didn’t leave much to the imagination, it did give a sort of view how it must have looked.

"Sounds like something the Heavens would create," Minho added to the conversation. "That sounds vaguely familiar to me."

"What are we going to do about it?" the grey haired questioned, resting his head on his hands tiredly.

"I have a plan, but it's going to be hard and definitely not foolproof," the elder spoke in a hushed tone, shortening the space between their heads.

The shorter huffed confidently, but his eyes were already drooping. "I have nothing to lose."

"Okay then," the Reaper smirked darkly, finally feeling like he could get even with them. "How about we break into the Heavens together?"

Jisung shrugged sleepily. "Let's fuck them up."

"No, we're not going to fight, we're going to steal a book." Minho shook his head at how anticlimactic he sounded. It stayed awfully silent on the other side of the room. "Jisung?"

Soft snores were enough of an answer for the male. He watched the boy's cheeks squished against the table, causing him to beam in affection. "Let's get you to bed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha... how nice life would be if i didn't actively avoid everyone


	20. 19

_23:45_

"Damn, I look good in this," Jisung whistled at his reflection, giving a little twirl and blowing some kisses. "Where do you buy your clothes? Vintage store? I want to look this edgy too."

Minho almost regretted taking the boy over to his place, but the bright gummy smile resting on the younger's worked like an infection. Soon the smallest grin broke out on the Reaper's usually blank face. When he realized this, he quickly cleared his throat and straightened his back. "Could you not care about looks right now and focus on not dying?"

The grey haired pursed his lips into a thin line, scrunching up his nose as he thought. "That's a hard request," he concluded, folding his hands in a business-like manner. "Plus, can we not break into the Heavens in style?"

He struck a pose, hips jutted out and hands awkwardly dangling above his head. The dark shades were slowly sliding down the bridge of his nose, so he hastily pushed them back into their position.

"You're hopeless," the ravenet sighed.

“Hopelessly fashionable,” Jisung said. “I’m about to end every model’s career.”

Minho shook his head as he reached out for a scroll laying on a shelf, obscurely hidden between more unattained documents. He sat back down and rolled it over the little ebony coffee table. Lively animations of angels, no bigger than Minho's pinky finger, jumped up from the parchment. It was as if they waited to come alive for a long time. "This is what it looked like up there. The interior changed, but all the routes are supposedly the same. " 

Jisung plopped down onto the vintage couch, right next to him, causing the elder to blush at the sudden closeness. The shorter gasped, removing his dark mask. "How big is the risk of... you know," he uttered, wide and curious eyes aimed at the Reaper. 

"It's a hit or miss situation," Minho replied with a cough, doing his best to ignore the feeling living boy's warmth caressing him "If we successfully avoid everyone, we get what we're looking for. However, if we get caught, we die."

"Sounds assuring," the younger stated, clicking his tongue as he played with the little holograms, the creatures climbing up his thumb and then sliding back down again. "What are we looking for?"

"About that..." Minho said, trailing off and shifting his gaze around the room. "We don't know. What it looks like, where it's located."

"Even more promising. You stole a whole map, but don't have a plan." The boy's tone was light, but the light quiver of nervousness gave away his feelings in an instant. "When are we going?"

The elder, lifted himself up from the comfortable cushions and dusted off his pants. "We're heading to my office now."

"Oh, joy," Jisung commented, pulling the hood of his stygian hoodie over his head – he had to at least have some variety in color. Honestly, he wasn't that good at keeping a low profile. "What direction? Left? Right?"

"Kiddo, you can't just walk there," the Reaper chuckled sacrilegiously, picking up his hat and blowing off the dirt, before securely placing it. "The living aren't supposed to stumble by."

"Then how–" The ravenet broke off his sentence by grabbing his hands and pulling him toward him in a secluded embrace, the nothingness swallowing them whole and leaving the dimly lit room behind.

"You can open your eyes again," Minho laughed, watching the grey haired's face while prying off the boy's hands that were gripping his clothes tightly.

The boy carefully popped open an eye, the other still clenched shut. "Warn me next time," he whined with a scowl. His sulking didn't last long, because his shock was washed away as soon as he saw his surroundings. 

Grande windows, scattering with colors when the light shone through them. Exquisite patterns of reds, greens and blues painted the wooden floor with liveliness. In the middle a big, charcoal desk with a name plate saying _'Grim Reaper'_ standing proudly in the centre, the silver shining in contrast. One side of the area was only bookshelves – a bookshelf wall the bookworm dream –, varying from ancient scripts to modern books. The chandelier was also hard to miss.

Jisung was about to speak, but the door creaked open with much sound, revealing a cherry headed boy, followed by a taller dark haired one.

"Come on, Jinnie, he hasn't been here for a week now," the first one deadpanned with an eye roll. "This is for making me do all the work."

"Uh, Seungmin," the latter stammered, poking at his shoulder with a nervous smile. "Stop talking."

"What?!" the shorter snapped, only for the taller to grab him by the shoulders and spin him around. The boy's eyes doubled in size and he sloppily bowed, head as red as his hair. "Oh you're here... with the human," he stuttered, biting his lip. "Sir, are you going through an afterlife crisis?"

Minho closed his eyes, counting to ten before opening again. He'd probably strangle his secretary sooner or later. "Seungmin, hello," he spoke through gritted teeth, with a murderous stare. "Good to see you've kept the place clean."

"Why is he here?" the redhead spat, with crossed arms. "Why do you keep on breaking the rules? You've been doing so well until now. Why do you have such crap timing?"

"If you call my alcoholic phase ‘doing well’, then you’re correct. We're going to have a talk after I'm done," the ravenet grumbled, putting his hand on Jisung's back and guiding him to the back. "You didn't see me here, understood?"

"What are—" Seungmin bit his tongue, knowing asking questions wasn't ideal at that moment. Instead he curtly nodded, pretending their presence was invisible and collected some files. "Hyunjin, what about those lost souls?"

Minho silently thanked his friend, glancing at the grey haired next to him. The boy had obviously paled and his legs trembled more with each step. He decided not to comment on it, it would probably not be appreciated anyway.

"An elevator?" The shorter snorted halfheartedly, but pressed the button anyway. "Even here they are innovative."

"What did you expect it to be? Medieval?" the taller questioned sarcastically, stepping into the cabin.

At that moment, broody classical music played in the background. "No, I know what you're thinking, but this is from the 60s."

"Sir, I am a music major," the younger remarked, leaning onto one of the metal bars. "Shostakovich is my mans."

"Do I have competition now? I don't know what to say to that," Minho responded, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coat. "We’ve arrived."

The doors slid open, and the Reaper stepped out, but a loud 'clunk' made him spin around in a spur. On the floor was a Jisung, rubbing a red spot on his forehead.

"God fucking damnit!" he cursed loudly, clasping his hand over his mouth in surprise. "Oh my god! Shit! Fu— whatever, I give up."

The grey haired clambered up, fixing his outfit and confidently strode forward again, just to be catapulted back again. He tried again numerous times, but it seemed like a glass window was placed between the boy and the Heavens. "I swear I didn't mean to curse God!"

"There are actually more than one, but they aren't really that important," Minho explained. "The Council does all the administration on life on earth."

"Real interesting," the shorter commented, "but could you save that for another time? We're have an issue here."

"Grab my hand," the ravenet suggested. Running out of times and options, the shorter complied. Minho closed his eyes, dark smoke seeping off his body, but the other remained at the same spot, trapped inside the metal compartment.

Jisung crossed his arms with a huff. "Well that wasn't really effective, now was it?"

That's when it hit Minho. He slapped himself on the forehead for being so ignorant. "Of course, mortals can't enter unless the Council personally brought them in."

"And you remember that just now?" the younger grumbled, sliding down the wall and sitting on the ground. "What do you suggest we do?"

"I don't know..." the Reaper trailed off, biting his lip as he thought. "We could... no, that won't work..." A loud thump broke him out of his thoughts. Startled he let out a small yelp and followed the sound with his gaze.

The grey haired stumbled forward, barely regaining his balance. "Style," he stated, blowing his fringe out his eyes and smiling goofily. "Dunno how I did it, so don't ask."

"I have so many questions." The male's shock, however, was short lived, in an instant both were rushing toward the library. "We'll work that out some other time, right now we have to move twice as fast. We've lost too much time."

Jisung patted the other's shoulder comfortingly, after catching up with Minho's fast pace. "No stress, who could catch us?"

"What are you two doing here?"

An unfamiliar voice caused the two to freeze in their tracks. Turning their heads in slow motion, they were met with a raging guard, sword shining in its case.

The pair shared a look, both knowing exactly what to do. "Run."

"Running for my life was already ticked off my bucket list!" The younger shouted, going for the full sprint.

"Shut up!" Minho panted, already out of breath. "Right!" he yelled, turning the corner, the younger knowing nothing more but to follow.

The guard chased them to the passage, but immediately halted, resting his hands on his knees. No sign of life was to be found, except for a mess of black feathers, a stray white one swirling onto the carpet.

<><><>

"That was wild," was the first thing Jisung said, "but why didn't we just teleport into the library."

"Magic force field as security," Minho replied, breathing heavily due to the sudden activity. He wasn't used to moving. "I can't use my abilities to enter places up here. That's why we had to take a little detour."

"Noted, but where is the library?" the grey haired wheezed, wiping away some sweat beads from his forehead.

"The map said it's here," the Reaper mumbled under his breath, frantically inspecting every corner of the room, the meeting room. "It should be."

As the elder did that, the other boy hopped around the room, touching all the things he could. He skipped over to the shelf and pulled out some books. He frowned when he saw a small knob.

"What's that?" he whispered, stretching his neck and looking around cautiously. "He won't mind," Jisung assured himself and turned it. A click was heard, followed by the screaming of the small humans carved into the wood.

Minho scurried over to the boy's side. "What did you touch," he hissed with sharp glare.

"It wasn't me," the younger denied quickly, jumping away from the shelves and taking a defensive stance. The closet creaked, screeching as it dragged itself over the floor. Both had to contain themselves from swearing. They were trying to be sneaky, for God's sake.

An arch appeared in the opening as a hidden passage, leading straight to endless rows of documents and knowledge. It was dark, only the occasional flickering of torches illuminating the way. It had to be three stories at least, the stairs draped in emerald fabric.

The shorter blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes. "Actually, it was me. I did that."

The ravenet didn't reply, frowning deeply as he stepped inside, Jisung trailing closely behind.

"That's impressive," the shorter muttered, eyebrows raised in amazement. "Operation 'steal whatever' going in action."

Up to now, the Heavens looked nothing different from a regular office on Earth, just wealthier. Boring, white walls and designed carpets, the occasional meeting rooms with desks designed into the smallest details. The boy felt let down, his mundane fantasies deflated like a balloon when setting foot in the supposedly holy place.

Never would someone have thought Heaven to be so normal, so _earthly._

"We're _borrowing_ it," the elder corrected him. "It's called a _library_ for a reason."

"I wish my library looked like this," the grey haired gasped, his stare traveling the works. He decided not to say that he literally quoted the other male. "Is this all about religion?"

"No, all documents are kept here," the taller responded, swinging his hands to move the closets. "Religion, history, rules."

"And we need to find?"

"The Council's most prized possession," Minho told, taking a turn and rummaging through the shelves. "Their laws."

"Sounds boring," Jisung declared, chasing the elder like a lost puppy. He yawned to make his point clearer. "Politics in general are boring, afterlife politics aren't an exemption."

"Could you be helpful at least?" Flinging more closets aside, the Reaper strode through the passages, the subtle lighting making it hard to see.

"Be quiet," the grey haired commanded suddenly, a scowl etched on his face with a finger pressed to his lips.

"Why–"

"No, I mean it," the younger warned, eyes darting around the area anxiously. "Something doesn't feel right." 

The boy could feel the onset of a headache pounding in his head, ringing in his ears and the thumping of his head numbed his other senses. "He's here." 

Minho felt like a muddle of confusion. The way the boy was acting sent shivers down his spine, like his emotions sprung over to him. "Who?"

"Me."

The Reaper's stare turned dark and he took a step closer to Jisung. "Weren't you banned?"

"I _was_ ," their favorite ghost-creature mused proudly, giddily sliding down the stair railing and sitting down on top of a shelf, "but as you can see, they can't control me anymore. He got up here too."

The only human in the group stood confidently, but his pupils quivered under the demon's eyes. He knew he couldn't show how scared he was, that would only please the demon more and if he were to die, he wasn't going to make it plausible for that thing. He wasn't going down that easily, he _hated_ being easy.

"Unless you have anything useful to say, leave." When the ghost didn't move from his spot, Jisung pointed at the exit. "There's the door, in case you couldn't find it."

"Stop pretending to be so tough, kid," the brunet tutted, raising a hand to silence him. "You could be crushed within the snap of a finger."

"Come at me," the boy challenged, taking a fighting stance. As if that would save him.

"If that's what you want," the other sighed, feign sympathy dripping off his grim features. He hopped off his towering seat effortlessly, giving the massive construction a light tap. "Oops."

The shelves tipped over, the ghost's smile growing wider with every inch it came closer to his mortal self. The small male let out a scream, crouching down and protecting his body from the potential impact. This was death, no way Minho could get him of this one.

Though, as it was about to crush Jisung's body, it all stood still. The demon frowned, holding his hand up to give it a final push, but it was stuck midair, unable to be moved.

"Don't you dare drop that on him," Minho seethed in a low voice, the dark hazes from his body holding both things firmly. Minho never knew he was capable of doing such things. His powers were strong, but not that strong that he could lift a shelf that probably was the weight of two loaded trucks. It felt as a divine boost had given him a push in the back, taking half the weight and giving him twice the strength.

"But you're looking for reasons, right?" The dead Jisung, smirked cockily at the faltering of the Reaper's defense. "Ever since you've been taken up here, that's all you ever wanted."

"Stop," the ravenet demanded, tightening the grip on the male's wrist, "I don't care about what you have to say."

"Then I'll just show you," he said, using his free hand to take a small book out of his pockets. "This is what you're looking for, their laws on how one becomes the Grim Reaper."

"That's it?" Minho scrunched up his nose skeptically. "That can't be, it's so small and plain. You're probably lying."

"But this page," the brunet uttered, showing a precisely realistic illustration of a curved blade, making the taller's blood run cold, "it seems familiar, doesn't it? Even the writing is authentic."

The room darkened, the remaining lights flickering. "How did you get that? How do you know about our plans?"

"Yeah, now you have to choose," the ghost replied, ignoring all the boy's questions with a roll of his eyes. "Him or answers. That's a tough one for you, isn't it?"

The Grim Reaper's eyes shifted between the book and Jisung. He wasn't obliged to keep the boy alive, he was only making his job hard. He waited for this moment for forever, but why did it not feel like a victory, as he had imagined so many times? He could be selfish this one time, right? He could– _How dare you even think such a horrible thing?_ he mentally punched himself, cursing himself for those loathsome thoughts.

Minho pushed the mind twisting demon aside with a sneer. "Not today, Satan."

With great effort and a cry of desperation, the closet was pushed back up with all of the ravenet's energy. The male rushed over the shaking boy, wrapping both his arms around him. "I'm so sorry it took so long, I won't let you down again."

Feeling the silent tears soak his shirt, he knew just how fragile a human life was, how simply it could be snatched away.

"It's going to be alright, Jisung," the elder whispered, the soft whimpers tugging at his heartstrings. "I won't let you go again."

He didn't care about his past anymore, it was time to leave that behind. What mattered now was the future. His future. Jisung was his future. 


	21. 20

It had been a week since the incident, a week since Jisung had the shock of his life, a week since Jisung had spoken. After Minho had taken the boy to his home, not trusting him enough to take care of himself, all he did was stare at the wall, his eyes glossy and face blank. Seated on the floor in front of the couch, the food the Reaper would bring in every day had been untouched, except for the small necessities he needed to keep his heart beating.

It broke his heart to see the boy in such state; so weak, so vulnerable, so _lifeless._

His once sparkling eyes were sunken and dull and tired, his skin was sickeningly pale like a corpse, his hair sticking in every direction. A shim, that's what he was, a shim of the person he was, just sitting there as the hours ticked by. Every now and then he'd nod off to sleep – there was no way that position could be comfortable. The ravenet would go over once in a while to check his breathing and pulse, wishing that once he woke up he'd get the Jisung he knew back.

But every time Jisung would just sit and stare and Minho's heart grew more helpless and heavy with every passing second, desperate to at least hear the other's voice. Even if the younger would curse him out and scream at him to leave, he'd be satisfied.

"Jisung," Minho called, tone wretched and quivering, "you don't have to be alright, but please, talk to me or someone at least."

No reply ever came. Truth be told, with every silence filled answer the Reaper's hope deflated little by little. Even so, he couldn't give up and he wasn't planning to.

"Should I get Felix?" he tried again, sliding down next to the grey haired, the color already faded. "I think he'd like to know where you are. With the amount of texts and calls, I'm pretty sure he already reported you missing." 

The stillness was heavy, crushing the elder's shoulders as it collapsed on him, he couldn't hold it anymore, not alone. However, he couldn't crumble for the younger's sake, he'd have to keep himself together. The pair continued to sit on the floor, only their soft breathing gracing the air. Ten minutes turned into thirty, thirty to an hour and so on.

"I shouldn't have brought you along," the Reaper sighed, mostly to himself. "This is my fault, so please be mad at me, yell at me, punch me in the face. I deserve that if nothing else."

Then, after an eternity, sniffles broke the silence, soft and suppressed. "I could never be mad at you," Jisung whispered, voice hoarse and raspy due to the lack of use. "At first I did blame it on you, but maybe you should let me go."

"Don't say things like that," the ravenet pleaded, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You're scaring me."

"You shouldn't fight a force you can't defeat," the younger continued, the other's words falling deaf on his ears, like they were never spoken. "Death comes for all of us and it seems my time is now, so let me go."

"No!" the elder was quick to throw back. "Don't be like this, you have so many things to live for and I can't take you from your family and friends–"

"Don't you see it, Minho?!" The grey haired glared at him and harshly pushed his hand away. "Are you really that dense?!"

"Jisung, listen–"

"No, you listen to me!" he seethed on, hot tears flowing down his cheeks. "Can't you see it?! I'm the one who killed you!"

Inside his head a headache blew up. The voice got louder again. It sneered all words he didn’t know were true or not. It battled for control, but Jisung – a lifelong internal brooder – wasn’t that easy to crack. He looked at Minho, the whispers only a background noise to him.

Minho held his hand close to his chest, frown etched on his forehead. "You... you wouldn't," he denied, mostly to convince himself, shaking his head as his gaze dropped down to the floor. "You couldn't. It's impossible."

"I killed you," the shorter repeated sternly, hands trembling in resentment that he felt for himself. "That demon is my soul wandering around here to reclaim my body. I'd rather die than give him that success!"

The Reaper's eyes were wide as sudden realization hit him like a wave, slurring him into the depts. "That's why I couldn't reap your soul," he mumbled under his breath, not daring to meet the other's face. "You don't have one."

"Exactly," Jisung muttered bitterly, his head hanging low. "I have no right to even be alive now, so return me to where I belong."

"But you are. You're living and breathing," the elder tried to reason, despair crossing his eyes, "and I can't take that away from you, I won't, I _refuse_."

The younger laughed humorlessly, a mocking expression tainting his features. He crossed his arms and leaned onto the darkened wall. "You say you can't take me from my loved ones, yet I cruelly took you from yours. How ironic, don’t you think?"

The ravenet was taken aback by this side of the male. All the words died on his tongue. He just stood and stared at the person across the room, a stranger in the body of someone he knew.

"Then, if you weren't supposed to exist, can you explain to me why you are?" Minho retorted with a hard scowl. "Slowly, because I'm not that clever."

"How could I know, he's never told me that side of the story," the grey haired grumbled, furiously rubbing away his stream of tears.

A pang of guilt struck the ravenet's heart so stepped towards the boy, his strides long and fast. He cupped his cheeks, what was left of those cheeks he'd come to adore so much, and delicately wiped his teardrops with his thumbs. "So what if your past self did that to me," he uttered with a sad smile. "The you I know nearly died to save his plant, so there's no way that you two are the same person."

"Please don't remind me of that," Jisung groaned, a faint blush tinting his nose and ears. The elder was so close to him, his breath tickling his lips and his eyes staring right into his own. How pretty they were, so big with little stars sparkling in them as a beautiful contrast to the deep onyx.

"Besides, there's a reason that you were reborn without that soul," the Reaper continued, their noses brushing. "I think that reason was because you're too good of a person for that parasite to live inside you."

The shorter was internally screaming by now, mind running wild. "Minho, what are you doing?" he asked dumbly, back pressed against the wall. He had no place to flee to.

Minho's gaze however was casted on the other's lips. "Can I kiss you?"

Suddenly the racing of his mind went still, the train crashing and taking everything down with it. The only thing he could sense was the thumping of his heart in his chest and the older boy's shy smile. The grey haired was blown away by the sudden request. Everything was hazy, especially his form of judgment and that was exactly why he threw his arms around the taller neck and pressed their lips together.

The ravenet's eyes doubled in size and his body stiffened. He was having his first kiss after four hundred years – no comment – and it was with someone he genuinely cared about. The sudden surprise was quick to overcome and soon he found himself kissing back, hungrily moving his lips against the Jisung's. They were chapped and rough, not quite what he had imagined, but his head was in euphoria.

The shorter parted his lips slightly, tugging at Minho's dark locks. He loved the feeling of lust taking over their senses, the physical contact.

They broke apart breathlessly, both wearing a mushy grin, their hair messy and cheeks flushed.

"What chap stick do you use?" Jisung spoke first, close to the elder. "Your lips are so soft, like how?"

"Vaseline. You definitely need it," Minho replied giddily, still in a happy daze. He ignored the boy's offended 'hey'. "Are you hungry?"

"Will you cook?" The younger couldn't help but smirk at that idea. The insult was long forgotten.

The taller's watch shifted to every corner of the room timidly, scratching his nape. "Yes?"

"You're too cute," the grey haired cooed, pressing a quick peck on the other's nose. "Of course, let me just clean up, because I feel kind of disgusting. Not because of you but you know... I am going to stop myself here." 

The elder chuckled at the boy's silhouette darting to the bathroom when reality hit him in the face with the nastiest punch they could muster. "Oh my god, I kissed him."

He crashed down on his couch with the most horrified expression, tugging at his hair while strangled sounds left his mouth. "Oh my god..." he uttered again, biting his bottom lip. His thoughts were all over the place, running wild every time he saw Jisung's face flash by his vision again.

The Reaper squealed, flopping face forward into a pillow and remaining in that position until a silvery voice broke his little moment. "You good?"

The ravenet shot up and shifted back and forth awkwardly. "Me?"

"We're the only ones here," the younger deadpanned, his damp hair sticking to his forehead. "Yes, you." 

"I'm fine, totally fine. Never been better, yup," Minho sneaked, his tone so tight it could suffocate him. He looked at Jisung again, this time squinting his eyes. "Is that my sweater?"

Jisung's eyes traveled to his little pink sweater paws, before beaming innocently. "Yeah, I'm borrowing it… if that's okay with you."

The elder cleared his throat gracelessly. "You're already wearing it, might as well keep it on." With that he left to the kitchen, scanning his cupboard for pans and bowls.

The shorter skipped after him cheerfully, peeping over the other's shoulder curiously. "Whatcha gonna make?"

"'What are _we_ making'," the Reaper corrected him, crouching down to gather some ingredients. "You're going to help me. Can you get some eggs? Milk too. They're in the fridge."

"I've been ordering takeout or had ramen ever since I moved out," the grey haired spluttered in protest, but still followed the taller's orders. "I can't cook to save my life."

"I can't cook to save your life either, so we're going down together," Minho shrugged, whipping out his phone and typing 'pancakes' in the search bar.

"Food poisoning it is," the younger remarked lightly, leaning on the counter with a small pout.

The elder inhaled sharply, ripping his gaze away from the screen. "Don't jinx it! Quick, knock on wood three times!" 

"Why?" Jisung frowned, his mouth hanging open in bewilderment. Lee Minho really was something else.

"No time for questions, just do it!" the elder insisted, the panic and urgency written on his face. 

"You're infuriatingly adorable, so for you I will." He stared the male straight in the eyes as he knocked on the counter, watching the stress wash away. "There, all bad luck gone." 

"Hey, don't mock me. This is a serious matter and all precautions must be taken," he sulked and cracked the first egg in the bowl, half of it spilling next to it, dramatically dripping down the edge. "Fuck."

"You're so lucky you don't need food," the shorter muttered, face palming and shoving the ravenet aside. "Let me show you how it's done."

He animatedly got the second egg and gracefully broke the shell, dropping it in the bowl with the contents. He blankly gazed at his disappointment. "At least I got it where it's supposed to be."

"Just fish it out," the Reaper ordered, already regretting this decision. It was supposed to be a romantic gesture, but ten minutes into it and it was already a disaster. He measured the flour, obviously discouraged. "Hey, Jisung can I–"

Jisung's gasped loudly, covering his mouth in shock. "I didn't mean to," he defended himself. "I swear I didn't see you."

Minho shut his eyes, counting to ten mentally and slamming the cup on the counter loudly. He wiped the white powder off his face with the most irritated expression Jisung had ever witnessed. "Want a hug?"

"I'm fine, really," the shorter giggled nervously, screaming when the elder took a step forward. "No! Stay right where you are! Be gone! Compelled!"

"Come here, Sungie," he grinned creepily. The other boy screeched, trying to run away, but the ravenet already grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a warm and floury embrace, shaking the remaining contents on the grey haired. "I just can't help to express my love for you."

The younger cocked his head up so quickly he felt some joints crack. "Was that a confession, Lee Minho?"

"You've got something on your face," the latter avoid the question.

"You too," Jisung retorted, moving his face closer to the other. "Let me just..."

He closed the gap between them shortly, smiling cheekily at the elder's flustered expression. "I can't help but to express my love for you too."

"So pancakes." Minho scurried over to the stove, finishing up the batter and heating up the pan before pouring some in and watching it cook.

"I'm thinking about leaving my position as the Grim Reaper," Minho mumbled after a while, fixated on the heap of misery on the stove.

"Is it that simple to quit?" the grey haired questioned, eyeing their creation in disgust. "Is that edible?" 

"Probably not," the Reaper responded, flipping their 'pancake' over. It looked like a scrambled egg, but messed up drastically. "Anyways, that's where it gets complicated. I have to persuade them or defy them."

"No, you shouldn't defy them," Jisung insisted worriedly, leaning his head on the elder's shoulder. "You shouldn't ever defy them, else you end up like that creature."

Minho's ears perked up, stroking the younger's hair. "What about him?"

"He defied the Heavens and the punishment he got was living in an empty eternity. He’s been stuck in a timeless bubble until I came by. He roamed around the earth aimlessly, not seen, not heard, like he never existed and he never will again," the shorter clarified. "I don't want that to happen to you. You can't become a cursed spirit."

"Then I'll just talk to them, alright?" the Reaper soothed the boy, enfolding him in his arms.

Jisung nodded into his chest. All of a sudden, a burning smell hit his nostrils. He turned to take a look at the pan, wheezing in terror. "We are never cooking again! Turn that shit off!"

"Jesus, this was a horrible idea!" the taller yelled, freaking out and fanning away the smoke. "They're pancakes! How did we manage to screw them up?!"

"Because you shouldn't hug while cooking, you dumbfuck!" Jisung exclaimed, throwing the rest of the mixture into the trash. "That's it, I give up."

"Who leaned agains't who?!" the ravenet turned on the fan and folded his hands behind his back and watched the chaos unfold. Jisung was screaming, there was flour everywhere and their food was smoking. "How domestic and romantic."

"What's your address, I'm calling takeout," the younger uttered, slapping his face to check if he could take up from this dream gone haywire.

"They always say the first one is bound to go wrong," Minho tried to reason with the boy, but was shut up with a glare.

"No, we are not repeating that again," the grey haired stated firmly, already holding the phone to his ear.

And that was how they ended up on the floor with pizza, watching random reruns of old shows, sharing a blanket and surrounded by pillows. The Reaper's heart swelled up at the feeling of Jisung by his side, keeping him warm with his bubbly self and smiles.

The ravenet gasped when a fuzzy feeling spread through his chest, expanding over his body. He held his hand over his heart and gasped.

The grey haired followed the noise, concern on his features. "What's wrong?"

Minho didn't speak, only taking the latter's hand and laying it on the place where his own had been moments before. Jisung's eyes turned to saucers. "No way."

A thump, and another, followed by many more.

A heartbeat, a pulse.


	22. 21

_9:21_

The wheels of the book cart squeaked loudly, echoing against the walls of the library. Jisung exhaustedly dragged his feet after them. His body slumped over the railing as he let it pull him along the hall. He was drained, he had no energy to even lift himself, relying solely on the trolley to get him to his destination.

"Changbin!" the boy called out. He wasn't sure if the other would hear him, but he'd hope he did. "Did Felix come in yet?!"

As if waiting for the cue, Changbin appeared behind him with a thoughtful frown on his face. "Felix never comes here, why are you suddenly asking for him?"

"I said Jeongin," the grey haired retorted, mirroring the elder's confusion. "Why are you suddenly bringing Felix up? Like, I get that you miss him, but..."

The shorter just sighed, bringing his fingers under his glasses to rub his eyes. "Did you have your daily dose of caffeine today?"

"I'm not sure, I can't really recall," the younger mumbled, lifting his head up slightly, before his eyes turned to saucers. "Did I even turn off the stove?"

“Jisung, you never use the stove.” Changbin examined the male, gaze traveling every inch to check if everything was still in place. He didn't miss how his hands trembled slightly and how the white of the floor was a meager echo of the paleness on the boy's skin. 

"Are you sick again?" He reached out, placing his palm on Jisung's forehead. To his surprise, he wasn't hotter than normal body temperature. "You should really get that tested at the doctors once. You look like a ghost."

Mrs. Yoon walked by, rolling her trolley of books past the pair. She halted. “You seem unwell, Jisung,” she commented without looking. “Have you been keeping yourself safe?”

"I'll be fine," the grey haired waved off meekly, a painful grin on his lips at the mention. "If you don't mind, I'll go take a seat. Jeongin’s waiting for me."

The boy didn't wait for their replies, stumbling over to their usual table. It was that feeling of being drunk, but pretending to be sober, colliding with every obstacle that wasn't even on his path. He could feel Changbin’s calculating gaze in his neck together with Mrs. Yoon’s worried huffs. He tried his best to at least follow the lining of tiles.

He heard them whisper things amongst themselves.

“You should keep a better watch over him,” she said.

“I can’t if that damned thing is always there. I can only focus on one at once.” 

Mrs. Yoon didn’t speak after that.

Jisung's ears perked as Changbin's footsteps faded into the distance and he finally released the breath he'd been holding. He bit his lip hardly, a bonfire of blistering pains burning him up completely, scorching up his skin. He clutched at his neck, his breath hitching as his other hand held onto the metal shelves for support.

Eyes squeezed shut tightly, he waited for the hurting to be dulled. A wave of relief washed over him as he fixed his composure and straightened his back. Going on as if nothing was wrong, the tingling of his hands and feet were never there to begin with, the knelling in his ears was just his imagination, the constant aching of his chest one of passion.

The grey haired crashed down on the chair, panic starting to rise up in him. The medicine he took was supposed to be kicking in by now, but he was feeling even worse than he did before. He sucked in a razor-sharp breath, counting things to calm himself. First the sections of the local library. Four, just like usual. Then he moved on the lamps dangling from the ceiling, all eight of them.

"Changbin?" the boy whispered, praying to every god he knew he'd be heard. This wasn't just a flu, it couldn't be, but he wanted to believe it were true. "Please..."

The anxiety was eating Jisung up alive as another stab to his chest made his body curl up. He collapsed onto the wooden surface with a whimper. Everything was on fire; the world was spinning and blurring out in front of his eyes.

A vague figure blinded his view, the young male squinting his eyes at the brightness of its light. "Are you an angel?"

The silhouette tilted its head, clear surprise on their features. "What? You couldn’t possibly…"

Jisung's thoughts were clouded, desperately crying for help, but he couldn't muster any words. "Was your face always shaped like a pizza?"

"Oh my god. Shut up, Jisung," the elder grumbled, ready to turn around, but a force was holding him back. Maybe it was Jeongin rushing past him to check on the boy.

It stayed silent, surprisingly. Something was off, the icky feeling of worry floated in the air, but it wasn't till Jeongin's mortified scream broke him out of his daze like an alarm bell.

"Changbin! Call an ambulance!" the redhead freaked out, shaking Jisung's shoulders in horror. "He's not breathing!"

The sounds of yells and hysteria turned into a fuzzy haze in the back of Jisung's mind while the black spots covered more of his sight.

The devil himself had come to drag him to hell.

Murkiness, shadows, absolute darkness.

<><><>

Minho's eyebrows knitted together, the twinge in his heart getting stronger with each strike. It was subtle, but noticeable.

"Minho, what's wrong?" Chan comfortingly rubbed the ravenet's arm, though not knowing what the problem was.

"That's why I wanted to meet you," the taller spoke, heart rate rising in nervousness. It was something he was yet to get used to.

The angel kept quiet, the expectant gaze already saying enough.

"Okay, so I don't know how to say this," the Grim Reaper trailed off, picking at his fingers. His cheeks fired up just thinking about it, his senses were tingling and jittery.

"Can you stop trying to be mysterious?" the blond whined, almost slipping of the edge of the stool, his nosiness getting the best of him.

"We kissed! Jisung and I kissed!" The boy had blurted it out so straightforwardly. Before he could think of a better way of wording it they were already in the air for all to hear.

Immediately the smile Chan was wearing dropped into a terror-stricken look. "Oh no," he whispered to himself, tugging at his hair. "Oh no, oh no, oh no."

"Did I do something wrong? Because if I broke another rule I don't really care." As he said it, he twiddled his hat around on his finger, eyes darting from left to right. The underlying fear of what they were capable of would always be trapped in his system, like a code in his genes.

The angel shot up from his seat, gripping the boy's shoulders with a piercing. "You're such a— No, tell me first, how have you been feeling?"

"I'm pretty fucking uneasy right now," Minho retorted, prying himself loose from the other's grip. Distaste was written all over his features when he threw the male's hands away.

"Can you not see how serious this situation is?!" Chan implied, a tremor in his tone and his hands balling into fists next his body. His eyes were set in a scowl, narrowed and firm.

"No, I can _not_!" the ravenet yelled, standing up so abruptly the chair's feet screeched against the tiles. "I can't see how serious any situation might be, because no one ever tells me shit!"

"We're only doing what's best for you!" the shorter responded, tone turning harsher with ever slash that left his mouth.

"So you're working with them?!" Red. That's all the ravenet saw. Red like his rage, shed blood on a battlefield. "I trusted you! I told you all my problems! You had the power to solve them, but never even cared too!" 

The louder his shouting got, the closer he stepped toward his so-called friend. He aggressively grabbed him by the collar, seething. He slammed him against the wall, the bricks cracking at the impact. "What else have you been keeping from me?!"

The lights flickered, on and off till they completely gave up. The only thing illuminating the place was the natural glow the angel was carrying. It was like a faint glow-stick that only gave off enough light to contour the edges of their faces.

"Why can't you just live on and forget that stupid kid–" Chan was cut off by the Minho's arm pressing on his throat and forcing out soliciting chokes and heaves.

"Speak before I send you to hell," the ravenet threatened dangerously. The air was chilly, causing goose bumps on the blonde's skin and shivers down his spine. Death was close. "I'll make it so that even Seungmin can't get you back."

Sensing the way his body got colder and his head got lighter, Chan gave in. "They were going to set you free because Han Jisung is finally dying!"

Minho's vision blurred out, indistinguishable lines of colors fading out his environment. He let go of the blond, stumbling backwards until it all stood still.

"What do you mean 'is'?" he demanded in a low voice, deadly as poison. There they were again, those shadows he'd gotten so familiar with, "Tell me now, what do you know Chan?" 

"Your chest, I know you can feel it thumping, aching even," the male spat, jabbing at his torso. "Can't you connect the dots? You're living off his lifeline." 

That's when the Reaper's world came crashing down, the firmament that had been crushing his shoulders till they bled finally reached its limit. It had finally become too much for the boy to handle. Together with the Heavens, Minho fell down.

"You're lying," he whispered, voice so fragile it shattered like broken glass, the splinters scattered all over the floor. "You're lying. You're a filthy liar, just like all of them. How can I believe you?"

"I'm sorry, Minho," Chan uttered, rubbing at the red marks decorating his skin. "All I wanted was to help you, too."

"How is taking the only thing that made me feel alive away from me supposed to be helpful?" the taller retaliated, tears threatening to spill. His voice cracked, together with Chan's guilt.

"We never thought it would lead to all this," the blonde tried to reason, wanting to wrap the boy into a hug, but the ravenet was quick to dodge him.

"Don't touch me," the Reaper snapped, emptily gazing at the floor.

"Minho, please–"

"Don't you fucking touch me!" the latter roared, the black inside finally springing out of him, engulfing him in a numbing bubble. "You all think you can control me! Manipulate me into doing all your dirty jobs, claiming it's 'for the best'! Guess what, you could never control me! You and your laws are nothing to me!"

Chan gasped, looking around if they were really alone. "Take back your words right now."

"Make me!" Minho raged on, clambering up from the ground in a whirlwind of emotions. "I don't give a crap anymore! I will not take Jisung's soul! I'd rather disappear!"

"Minho!" By now, the angel knew the male would be damned.

"I don't care! You can’t stop me! You can't, you can… can't," the boy broke out into tears, the fuzzy noises dying and the clear cries the only thing resonating through the room.

"Chan please, beg them, I will plead on my knees if I must, because I cannot live like this any longer," Minho sobbed, dropping to his knees and grabbing the hem of the hem of the latter's black shirt. "Please."

"There's nothing I can do," the blond sighed in defeat, his heart shattering at what a mess the his friend was. Minho had always been one to keep to himself, calmly like nothing could get to him.

Never in those centuries had he ever thought of seeing the Grim Reaper cry at his feet.

Minho sniffled, head hanging low. "Bu-but you could try," he opted, his tone shaky and small. “Try it at least. Please Chan, try it,” he begged. He shook, almost taking Chan along with him. “Please…”

“Seo Changbin. That’s his guardian. He can help you out.” Chan massaged his temples, motioning somewhere away. "Go, he's running out of time."

The ravenet nodded, lacking any senses "I'm sorry." Gone, scattering a mix of black and white feathers.

Chan bent to the knees, collapsing with his careless exterior. He rubbed his face. "You're lucky I love you enough to keep you out of Heaven."

<><><>

The beeping of a machine. That was the first thing Jisung caught up on. The beeping of a machine and a hand holding onto his tightly, the grip never softening.

His eyes fluttered open, but he immediately closed them at the sudden overwhelming whiteness. When he opened them again, he noticed he definitely wasn't in his bedroom. It was way to white and clean for it to be that. He let out a croak.

Turning his head to the left he noticed a small air purifier, but what caught his eye were the tubes running past him and up to an infusion pump. He groaned into his oxygen mask, his head was still throbbing and his chest hurt with every breath squeezed out of him.

"I thought I would lose you." Jisung's gaze followed the raspy sound, meeting a set of bloodshot eyes.

The younger smiled weakly. "Minho."

"You shouldn't be happy to see me," the ravenet bitterly muttered, but he couldn't break the eye contact between them. "I keep ruining your life over and over again."

The grey haired cleared his throat, it feeling sore because the last time he drank had to be hours ago. "I don't really see it that way, but go off."

"I'm the reason you're in here," the elder continued on, sliding his chair closer to the other's head. He brushed his fringe away and pressed a downcast kiss on his head. "I keep trying to protect you, but in the end I'm the monster."

"If you weren't here, I'd probably be gone a lot sooner," Jisung responded under his breath, caressing the boy's cheek. "Although really, I'm just a threat to myself."

"That doesn't change the fact that I'm slowly killing you," Minho mumbled, sprawling his upper body over the hospital bed. "You shouldn't be so caring towards me. Stay as far away from me as possible."

The shorter shook his head, twirling a strand of the ravenet's hair around his finger. "Can you keep yourself away from me?" 

"No," the male admitted, closing his eyes to listen to the steady thumping in the younger's chest. This was the way it was supposed to be if only their timelines hadn’t been messed up the way were.

"Exactly," the grey haired grinned, "so don't you even think about it. I'm just too attractive to resist."

"Conceited much," Minho huffed, but hissed when he felt a hard poke in his side. "Not that I disagree."

"That's what I thought," Jisung giggled, wiggling his eyebrows at the Reaper's joking glare.

There was a breezy silence in the room, the pair just enjoying one another's presence. Jisung's hands were in Minho's hair and Minho's hand was still protectively holding onto Jisung's. No one knew when life would turn and take these moments away.

"You know," the ravenet suddenly broke the feel. "A lot can still happen in your lifetime."

"Where are you going with this?" the grey haired asked, looking straight at the other. The boy didn't see though, because his eyes were staring out of the window, watching the rain drip down them.

"It's really too bad that I'm already dead, but for you I'd try living again," the Reaper commented, leaving the question unanswered. "Though, I don't want to come back using you."

"What do you mean?" the younger questioned again, forcing Minho to look at him by placing his finger under his chin.

"I'm sorry," the elder said, his eyes glossy and voice wavering.

"I don't know what for," the shorter sighed, smiling a bittersweet smile, "but don't be. Even if I could go back in time to prevent all this drama from happening, I wouldn't if it meant I wouldn't meet you."

Minho didn't answer, instead burying his head into Jisung's neck.

"I wouldn't trade you for a thing," the grey haired spoke on, locking the elder into a uplifting hug. "You're too precious for that. This place is too harsh to you."

"How can you speak so lovingly of the most hated thing in the world," the ravenet whispered, picking at the sheets.

"Because I know how much it hurts you to do those things," Jisung replied, bopping the elder's nose, “and hey, you also need to make a living."

The Reaper lifted his gaze, narrowing his eyes. "That was lame, that was _so_ lame."

"And you're loving every moment of it." The grey haired smirked and pecked the other's cheek.

Minho opened his mouth to say something. However, at that moment the door was slammed open, a nurse standing in the opening. "Hi, love, I'm just here to do some checkups."

The way she only looked at Jisung and didn't question why there was another boy lying in his bed was enough to conclude that she couldn't see the Grim Reaper. She hobbled over to the machinery, humming a happy tune.

"Death lingers in your room, sweetheart," the nurse noted, checking the stats and IV, not thinking twice about the comment.

Jisung shook his head and turned his head to face Minho and locking eyes. He gently beamed at him. "I know he won't hurt me."

The nurse smiled. “Are you sure about that, sweetheart? It seems you haven’t been keeping yourself safe.”

Jisung’s eyes bulged. The nurse had morphed into a breath-taking young woman. He long black hair flowed without the wind blowing and here bright eyes glinted lively and knowingly. She waved and winked. “You stirred up quite a fuss at the library.”

Minho shot up with a glare. “Why are you here?”

“Hush up,” Sunmi replied, holding up her hand. Her fuchsia flower-print gown dragged over the floor. “You two are adorable, I must admit. Last time this happened it didn’t end too well, though.”

She ran a long nail down Jisung’s jaw line. “What a pity.”

“Who are you?” Jisung asked, flinching away from her touch.

“Me? Which version do you want?” She smirked. “I could be here to collect your rent.” She melted into his old landlady, Mrs. Lee. “I could be here to fire you for too many absences.” Mrs. Yoon. “However, t I don’t really like those bodies. They’re hard to move in.”

She turned back and ran a hand through her hair. She stuck out a hand. “I’ll introduce my real self. I’m Sunmi, head of the Council. Nice to meet you.”

“I wouldn’t be too glad to meet her,” Minho mumbled into the boy’s ear.

Sunmi’s face dropped together with her hand. “Minho.”

“Sunmi,” he mimicked her. “Why are you here? It must be a very tricky situation.”

“Me? I’m trying to capture a ghost,” she replied. She leaned forward and brushed Jisung’s bangs out of his face. “Get well soon, sweetheart. I’ll go check on my other _patients_.”

She twiddled her fingers in a greeting. ”May love win this time.”


	23. 22

Hospital rooms were never a place a person would want to be, not voluntarily at least. The blandness of the plain walls started closing in, looking smaller with every hour passing. They were smothering Jisung with their density, with the longing to breath in the fresh outside air once again. It felt like he had been in there for an eternity, a prisoner to his own condition.

It was bright. The light bounced off the barriers, jumping from side to side, but it didn't make it any more lively. In fact, all this luminescence revealed how lonely it was. At least he could’ve imagined there were people in the dark.

Jisung sighed glumly, the blue sky in his window reflecting down on the streets and coloring them in similar tints. Prussian, oxford, midnight. It was all blue, a gloomy and agonizing color if the shades were wrong.

He didn't understand; why he was still stuck inside a stuffy room, why they were still checking on his health, why he was still trying. Why would one desperately try to cling onto something inevitable, continuing to throw pennies into the slot when the game was made to be lost.

Years were continuously unconsciously counting down, becoming long and dreadful days, becoming fast-passing hours, speedingly meaningless minutes, countless seconds. Time waits for no one, death receives anyone with open arms.

Drowning in his thoughts, the boy jumped when a cold hand tapped his shoulder. He trembled, not daring to turn his head around. That high-frequency screech muting his hearing to his surroundings, the busy city streets and the rustling of hospital staff falling silent. The goose bumps on his arms caused by the icy environment. And finally, the darkness that made him feel so welcomed. He wasn’t only inside his head anymore.

"Are you really going to ignore me, Jisung?" Taunting, but there was something unnerving about the tone. Something was up, something that could destroy everything.

Sharp nails caressed his throat, bloody lines making the gray haired light in the head. Digging in, followed by a gasp, the dead smirked. "I know you can't block out my existence. Even in your thoughts, you find it hard."

"Get out," Jisung threatened in a low voice, gaze fixated on the digital clock hanging on the building across. _10; 17: 41:01._ "Or I will scream."

The ghost laughed, crouching down and resting his head on the handrail. "That'll only get you into the psychiatric ward. Also, they can't go in. This room isn't real."

"Pardon?" The younger squinted his eyes, head too muddy to comprehend it.

"You're in my world now," the other explained, drawing circles on the inside of his hand. "An imaginary one where you can't escape, helplessly running around in my palm."

Jisung tightly gripped the leather of the stool, the material getting damaged, tearing together with his sanity. He cracked, he couldn't hold it in any longer. "What do you want from me? If you want me gone, then why don't you kill me?"

"There, there, don't get too worked up," the brunet said, patting the boy's head. "That's what I wanted to hear."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a blade, curved and crystallized. "Remember this?"

The boy only nodded, eyes like saucers. He shuddered upon seeing the screaming designs, the memories of the first time he found it attacking his brain. He never wished to go back to that, even in mind.

Before, all the thoughts that made his skin crawl at night were ones of embarrassment. The dumb things his thirteen year old self did that kept him up at night. Now, however, the constant phobia of the end was what terrorized him before he could sleep. If he closed his eyes, what would become of him. There was a chance he'd never open them again. He couldn't live like that any longer.

There was no point in struggling against the current. Jisung realized it was best to stop beating himself up and just going with whatever it was the Heavens needed him to do.

"For it being so important, I'm surprised the Council isn't going crazy to find it," the demon mused, throwing the knife up and down, repeating it over and over again, like he was avoiding any contact with his skin, “but actually I know exactly why they aren't."

It stayed painfully silent, the demon anticipating for the other to answer, only for the male to glare at him. The only thing heard the sizzling of the material making contact with the ghost's flesh, the burning embers tattering the air.

"Are you expecting me to ask?" The younger raised an eyebrow, tone challenging the other to hurt him.

"You better, before I end you," the ghost hissed, fist coming dangerously close to the grey haired's face. He caressed the boy’s face with the tip. A small trickle of blood fell, forming a contrasting splotch on the bright white sheets.

"Oh heavens, what do you know?!" the human exclaimed in a monotone, raising both his arms and expression indifferent to any threats that were to come. He pursed his lips to suppress a scream.

"Good question," the brunet commented, clapping sarcastically. "To put it simply, they're seeing that I messed with fate and that fate is now setting it straight again."

"What exactly did you do?" the younger questioned, frowning and his arms folded. "Your explanation last time was worse than my math teacher's."

"What _you_ did?" the male corrected, clearing his throat and finally standing up again. "Well, you took a soul that wasn't supposed to die."

"Why did _I_ do that?" the grey haired asked, his attention going back to the clock, eyebrows furrowing at the weird time. _10; 16:39:55._

"Because you wanted to live," the spirit replied. "That's what every creature's most primal instinct is, to survive."

“If you’d just waited, then you could’ve had an actual life,” Jisung said, releasing a breath when the blade left his skin. He looked at himself in the glass. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it had burned. There was a chance of scarring.

“When the end is near is usually when one starts fearing death,” the brunet retorted. “Especially if that someone has seen the worst of the afterlife.”

Jisung's confusion grew with every sentence that would leave the male's mouth, every action more ridiculous than the previous one. A mortal brain was not made to understand the supernatural.

"Of course, the poor prince did nothing wrong," he continued, pacing back and forth in his story. "Prince Lee Minho, so young and naive. He was too curious for his own good, though rebellion is created when you trap them inside a cage."

"Go on," Jisung uttered, ears perking up at the mention of Minho. More specifically, Minho's past. His feelings were irking him to find out more, for Minho.

"The crown prince’s life was dedicated to preparing him for the throne," the demon told, lacking every ounce of empathy and guilt for his deeds. "Locked inside the castle does make you wonder what the outside world looks like. He'd jump at every opportunity to escape, with whoever could set him free."

 _10; 16:25:32._ The dots connected in the grey haired's head. It was counting down, a time bomb ticking. Even for the dead, time will eventually come to slobber them up.

"Then he fell in love, without knowing what love was. I'd take him on little rendezvous, getting him high on the taste of life. Then I stabbed him in the back, literally," the demon declared with a chuckle, dropping the bundle in the other's lap, "and you're going to do exactly the same. It’s fated."

"You're running out of time," Jisung announced, ignoring the urge to throw the blade back at the tormentor, that would mean his end and he wouldn't go that easily. "Am I right? A little over ten days left before your soul disappears with every chance of being reborn."

"You're way smarter than my replacement," the brunet commented, applauding shortly. "Although, I think he still believes better times will come, holding on to that little spark of hope."

"Am I right?" Jisung repeated, louder and stressing every word clearer.

The other leaned forward, their faces inches apart. He snapped his fingers. "We're all just trying to make it in this cruel world."

The room faded away, dissolving into the white ceiling of the hospital. Jisung felt the fluffy covers under his hands, frowning. He swore he was standing by the window moments ago. He rubbed his eyes, shaking the whole event off as another weird dream.

"You fell asleep on the chair," a voice interrupted his thoughts, causing the boy's head to follow the sound. "I carried you back to bed, in case you were wondering."

"Hi, Minho," he croaked out, a forced smile on his lips. He was happy that the ravenet had come, but he needed some time to process the earlier events.

"Are you ready to get discharged?" the elder asked, wiggling his eyebrows and holding up a bag. "I brought you some clothes, so go get changed."

Catching the bundle thrown at his face, Jisung's features showed pure disgust. "Why do you have that perverted look? I'm kicking you out if you don't stop."

"I swear I won’t do it again," Minho replied, cupping his face, leaning onto the bed with an innocent grin. "Now hurry up, I got something exciting for you."

His happy expression wavered. “What happened to your face?”

“Must have scratched myself in my sleep,” Jisung mumbled. “My nails are getting quite long, don’t you think?” He showed the Reaper with spread fingers. Minho’s serious expression stuck. He continued, “What do you have for me?”

“I swear, it’s going to be great,” Minho replied. His shoulders lowered.

The younger's eyes lit up hearing that, sprinting to his bathroom with the goofiest smile. "It better be very exciting!" he yelled, before slamming the door shut.

Stripping off the dumb hospital gown, he changed into more comfortable clothes. "Oh, how I missed hoodies," he mumbled, pouting while slipped it and letting the green fabric engulf him. "The medical field needs some fashion advice."

The boy strutted back out again, feeling like a model on the runway. "That's the fastest I've ever gotten changed. Don't expect me to do that again," he stated, blowing a kiss with a wink at the elder. "So what are we going to do today?"

The Reaper giggled, catching the kiss and putting it into his pocket. Jisung had to contain himself from melting on the spot, the sight so cute he wanted to take the other away from the world and keep him close forever.

"I'll take you there," Minho said, standing up and stretching his legs, heading for the exit. "It's a surprise."

"Wait, we're going to walk there?" the shorter asked in bewilderment. He rushed after the ravenet, legs not used to the sudden activity yet. "Not so fast!"

"I didn't even leave the room yet," the elder declared, laying his palm on the male's forehead. "Are you sure you're ready for the outside world?"

"Yes!" Jisung practically screamed, quickly covering his mouth in shock at his boldness. "Okay, so maybe I'm not ready for the outside world, but I'm definitely done with that boring place."

"Whatever you say," the taller shrugged, taking the younger's hand and swinging it lightly with every step. "After we get out of the hospital, we'll teleport there. Unless you don't want that."

The boy pretended to ponder on it deeply. "Actually, I'd rather take a walk today. I want to enjoy fresh air."

"Then for the first part we can stroll through the city," Minho spoke, mostly to himself.

"'First part'?" the grey haired repeated to check if he'd heard it correctly. "It's a long trip?"

"Yes," the elder confirmed, lips curled up in amusement. He couldn't help but have fun in seeing the younger fretting over nothing. "If you want to walk it is."

The shorter slapped both his cheeks, the sound of it echoing through the halls. "Is it too late to retract my request?"

"It's fine," the ravenet waved it off, gently taking the other's hand to stop him from hurting himself. "Besides, you'll do enough walking later."

"Thank god," Jisung huffed out in relief, the way the taller beamed almost making it worth the pain he could already feel in his feet. Almost. "Asking me if I wanted to walk, it was a trick question, wasn't it?"

"I never asked you anything, you just assumed," the boy remarked, dragging the other outside after him.

Stepping out, he squinted his eyes at the sunlight blinding his vision. "What did you plan?"

"I heard the food here is horrible," the Reaper uttered, reaching into his jacket. It was as if he hadn't heard the question at all. He pulled out a pack. "I got you this."

The grey haired lunged forward, nearly dropping the cookies on the gravel. He grinned to himself, hugging the food to his chest. He shyly wrapped his free hand around the taller's waist, planting a short peck on his lips. "Thank you."

Minho choked on his saliva, firmly gripping the younger's shoulders with a seriousness in his expression the other had never witnessed before. "We can't do that anymore, it could be dangerous."

"Why? I'm feeling fine," Jisung stated hesitantly. "Is it because you get queasy doing it in public?"

The elder violently shook his head, going past his wrist, neck and chest. Nothing. He sucked in air, it was safe to breathe again. "That's not it," he reassured the shorter, engulfing him in a hug knowing he was going to be safe. "I don't want you to get hurt again, it was my fault after all."

"We've been over this," the younger muttered into the taller's chest. "I don't blame you for anything."

"I do blame myself," the elder mumbled, running his hands through the grey locks. "So from now on, we have to be extra careful till I find a way to be human again."

Jisung looked up, sudden self-reproach eating him up, nibbling at his insides and working toward his outside. His skin felt so dirty with guilt just taking in how badly the boy wanted to escape his current life style. He was the only one to be blamed here, even after knowing him and the demon weren't the same being.

The gummy smile the elder was wearing lit up those dark thoughts and soon the younger found himself mirroring those actions.

"Now jump, we're gonna teleport like in the movies," the ravenet told him, linking their arms. He looked like a young child, fascinated by everything. "Close your eyes."

Shaking his head, the shorter couldn't hide his grin. He eagerly complied, his curiosity reaching its peak. He felt the chilly wind lick past his skin, the flying sensation he would never get used to. "Can I peek yet?"

"Yup," Minho replied bubbly, enthusiasm sparking in the pit of his stomach.

The grey haired slowly removed his palms, mouth falling open at the view. The salty air hitting his nostrils caused a certain type of nostalgia to hit him. "Wow, this is amazing."

A certain type of pride washed over the Reaper seeing the younger happy. "Do you want to get closer to the sea?"

The boy eyed I'm in disbelief, dropping on the sand to undo his shoelaces. "Is that even a question?"

"Yes," the ravenet responded, taking off his shoes too, letting his bare feet sink into the sand. "That's why I asked."

"No need to get so smart," the shorter said, sticking a cookie into his mouth and offering one to the elder. "Want?"

"I'm good," the male refused, sticking his hands into his pockets, wanting to enjoy the moment for a little longer.

The wind was messing up both their hair, and Jisung's complaints about not being able to see anything made the taller laugh. The boy would never believe he'd gotten the whole beach-date idea because someone died there that moment. He wasn't planning on ruining the mood either. It was quite a morbid experience. Drowning was one of the most unpleasant ways to go; it was a struggle till the very last moment.

They didn't talk much, the occasional shared joke, but they mostly appreciated each other's company, appreciating how they were going through this hell of an experience together.

Jisung sighed in content, resting his head on Minho's shoulder. "We sure walked a long distance," he murmured, noticing the pier they stood at was almost not visible. He decided not to mention the way his feet were aching so badly he was ready to lie down and fall asleep on the spot.

The way the younger was leaning on his neck tugged at the Reaper's heartstrings. He halted his steps and crouched down slightly. "Get on."

The grey haired blinked a few times, scanning the boy's for any hint of bantering, but none was found. "If your back starts hurting, just know you offered."

"Get on before I change my mind," the elder teased, getting ready to stand up again. The grey haired, however, pushed him back down again.

"Aye aye, captain," the shorter saluted, jumping on and holding on tightly. "So did you find any ways?"

"Not ones where I can go without hurting another life," the ravenet replied _, Especially yours_. He kicked at the water, splashing it everywhere. "So basically, we're not any closer to the goal."

"We'll find a way," the younger tried to comfort him, ruffling his already messy hair. It was dumb to promise things you couldn't make true, but they just wanted to live on in their little fantasy where they were normal.

"Chan told me about the Heavens setting me free again," Minho continued, readjusting Jisung’s position so he wouldn't slip off.

It all felt bittersweet, spending this time with someone he couldn't be with, but he was selfish. He was selfish for keeping someone close who wasn't supposed to be in his world, he was selfish for defying fate's will, he was selfish because he was caring for himself. And if his own happiness meant being selfish, then so be it.

Jisung suddenly leaned forward in one fast motion, both stumbling to the ground and getting covered in wet sand, but the boy couldn't care less at the moment. He brushed his fringe out of his eyes with a wide grin. "Really?!"

"Ow," the taller groaned, spitting out the mouthful of beach. "I wouldn't get too cheery and hopeful about it. The only way I could be set free is if you die and that's not going to happen. I'll keep looking for alternatives."

"Oh," the younger spit out, miserably turning his head away. He wished he'd never mentioned it at all, he wished he'd just fallen in love with a regular person, he wished that normal person was Minho. Life was unfair.

"What happened to your neck?!" Minho suddenly burst out, clambering to get next to the other. He moved away his hair, eyes widening. "It's bleeding!"

"It-it's bleeding?" Jisung's fingers shakily reached out to feel it, his breath hitching when he saw the red liquid. He had briefly forgotten about injury. He bit his lip to contain himself from losing it, his muscles tensing up.

Wordlessly he held it up for the other to see, bile rising to the back of his throat again. "Minho, I can't–"

The Reaper pulled him close, shushing him and rocking his quivering body back and forth. "It's going to be okay, focus on me, yeah? I'm here for you and I won't let you go."

The words of comfort fell deaf on the younger's ears, the only thing consuming his mind the freezing metal in his waistband pressing into his back.


	24. 23

_10 days_

Outside of the Grim Reaper's rain-stained window it was a copper mess with leaves scattering the ground, leaving the trees above somber and empty.

A loud exhale, fogging the glass to represent Minho's thoughts. Autumn was found beautiful by most people. The vintage colors, the cozy feelings of warm shawls and long coats. _Who would've thought that dying could be so mesmerizing?_

No one. Because the beauty that captured the eyes during this season blinded them as they did. It blocked out the fact that it all came with nature shutting itself down for colder, harsher, darker times. Knowing this, Minho would still voluntarily go outside to breathe in the scent of freshly fallen rain and kick up the dead leaves in the autumn breeze and feeling them crunch under his steps, because sometimes leaving wasn't the worst thing to happen.

After all, it was being left behind that most feared, witnessing the end of someone's road, feeling the aftermath. Funerals weren’t for the dead, they were for the living. It was a closure to send off a body; the final acceptance that the deceased wouldn’t be waking up again.

The doorbell brought the ravenet back to reality. He decided to ignore it and travel back into his fantasies, but the ringing continued. Unstoppably it went on, the sound growing with each second and the pauses in between nonexistent.

With a groan, the male rolled off the couch, draping a blanket over himself to cover his homey attire.

Ready to snap at whoever dared disturb his peace and quiet, he pulled the door open. His blanket slid off his body and fell down in a slowed frame. “Guardian angel.”

“I heard you were looking for me?” Seo Changbin said.

Minho nodded. His jaw dropped to the floor. He stepped aside for the boy to enter, though his reactions were as slow as his understanding when in shock. He blinked a few times. “Make yourself at home,” he finally replied.

Changbin awkwardly took a seat on the couch. “What is it you have to say?”

“You’ve been helping me out,” he stated.

Changbin’s face remained blank, however the right corner of his mouth twitched slightly. “You’ve been doing my job pretty well,” he admitted. “I wonder how much more damage that thing could’ve done if it hadn’t been for you.”

Minho asked, “You’ve been keeping him away?”

“It’s not the first time I’ve done it,” Changbin replied. “Last time I failed. I’m sorry.”

The gears in Minho’s head creaked and turned. He watched the boy twiddle with his fingers. “It was… You were my guardian angel?”

“Supposed to be,” Changbin smiled sadly. “I’m determined to make it right this time. I know I was meant to protect you in a previous life, but I will hurt you if I must. I’m not joking. Sunmi sent me to watch Jisung the moment he was born. I’ve watched him grow into what he is now.”

“You won’t have to worry about him as much in the future anymore,” Minho promised. “I’ve found a way.”

“Broken timelines can’t be fixed that easily,” Changbin said. “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life. In any case you’ll become a murderer.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Minho assured him. “If I hurt him I give you all the permission to hurt me.”

“He’s dangerous,” the male brought up suddenly, “but he’s been weakening. He’s having a harder and harder time coming back to this world. He’s primarily been living inside Jisung’s head and sadly that’s a place I can’t protect him from.”

“Please continue to protect him the way you do,” Minho uttered. He bit his lip and mumbled under his breath, “I wanted to thank you.”

The angel lifted his eyebrows. “What for?”

Minho watched the autumn leaves flutter down. “For making the moments we’ve had as peaceful as possible.”

<><><>

The doorbell rung continuously again. Minho swore that if Changbin hadn’t left he wasn’t going to make it end prettily. He undid his locks, ready to yell, only for all the harsh feelings to melt away once he met a grey haired boy.

Jisung stood in the pathway, shivering slightly with stray leaves sticking in his hair. Although, the most noticeable part had to be the fact that his jacket was shut tightly with some odd bulges on odd places. He couldn’t possibly have fit seven extra layers underneath his windbreaker.

"What are you hiding in your jacket?" Minho asked with a frown, stepping aside for the other to enter.

A faint meowing was coming from the boy's direction, already telling the taller enough. The younger, however, kept a straight face through the whole happening.

"Drugs," he replied as a tiny red animal jumped out of the fabric prison. "Want some happy pills?"

The taller gasped, the tips of his lips slowly curving upwards. "Jisung, you didn't."

"Remember that time we were supposed to go see kitties?" The younger shifted awkwardly, opening his jacket and placing the cage on the floor. "Yeah, I figured it'd be better if I took them to you, seeing I almost got hit by flying seating."

"That was honestly the weirdest shit I've seen them do," the ravenet said, crouching down to pet the animals, wiggling in excitement when it purred. “Wah, so pretty.”

The shorter just observed the way the other cracked a faint smile whenever the cat would brush up against him, putting it into a mental file so he could replay it over and over. He didn't know the other liked cats, it was just a hunch he had. tendencies reminded him of cats in a way. His stand-off, stuck-up behavior while actually caring inside, to pick an example. So when he walked past the animal shelter, he followed his heart instinctively. Minho’s

Thank god he did, because this was a sight he'd dream of forever, even though his wallet was probably wheezing at the sudden splurge of money. Hanging his jacket on the rack, Jisung skipped over, joining them on the floor.

Small giggles were heard all over the place as the two boys snuggled up on some blankets with little paws were dribbling through the room.

"She's so _cute_ ," Minho gushed, picking up the red kitten, rubbing their noses together. "I'm going to kidnap them."

"Don't you mean _catnap_?" Jisung could swear he felt the fur ball on legs shooting daggers into his back, but his smile didn't falter.

"The more time I spend with you, the more I notice how bad your humor is," the elder deadpanned, shaking his head. He couldn't deny he adored it when the boy would make those bad, sometimes childish jokes. Truthfully, it lifted his spirits on days like these.

"But you're loving it," the grey haired singsonged cheerfully, hands on his side as he stared out of the window thoughtfully.

The taller ignored him, blinking at the cat in his lap. "Soonie, want to leave with me?" he asked, the dramatic gasp coming from his side causing a chuckle.

"You live here! Don't leave me!" Betrayal on Jisung's features, he crashed down onto the ravenet, clinging onto his back and squishing his cheek on the other's shoulder, "and when did you name her? Without me? I'm offended."

"Name tag," Minho shrugged, patting the younger on the head with a coo. "Does Jisung need some love and affection too?"

"Jisung wants all the love and affection Minho can give," the shorter pouted, looking like a sad little dumpling. Soonie had turned uninterested in the two and quickly scooted over to trash the couch instead, leaving an empty space in Minho's lap.

An evil glint flashed through Jisung's eyes. With a barbaric yell he pulled the elder down, a surprised scream filling the room. A heavy weight pinned the ravenet to the floor, pushing an 'off' out of his throat. Upon seeing the younger's smug face next to his, he realized what just happened. He had been turned into a living pillow with another person sprawled out as a starfish on top of him.

It was all so sudden, it left the Reaper's mouth hanging open, eyebrows knitted together. "Okay but why?!" 

"Because I love you," the grey haired replied without second thought, the confession carelessly flung into the air.

Minho's breath hitched, his blood ran cold. "Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure about this?"

The younger bit his lip, turning his head away. "I don't know much about love, but I'm pretty sure that what I feel for you is exactly that."

"You shouldn't," the elder mumbled in a flat tone, not bothering to look at the boy. He'd turned his body away from the other, avoiding any type of contact.

The shorter rolled off, his hair disheveled as were his expressions. That answer was far from the one he'd expected to come. "Oh, so you tell me I shouldn't and suddenly my feelings will vanish? I'm yet to find magic that works that way."

"Jisung, please," the Reaper spoke in a hushed voice, knees pulled up to his chest. "I can't let you get close. I already knew it was going to be damned from the first time I decided to save you."

"What? So you're saying it would've been better if I died?" the younger said a little too loudly, voice cracking as the lump in his throat grew bigger, suffocating him in his words.

"Don't just assume things like that!" the ravenet shouted, the tremor of his hands vibrating through his tone. "I never said anything like that! I meant that I should've stayed away from you!"

The grey haired rubbed his eyes to hold in the tears that were forming in his eyes. He sniffled. "Do you regret meeting me then?"

"Yes," was the harsh response that followed, crushing the last piece of hope in the boy's heart.

The dams in containing his sadness finally gave in, and a river of tears traveled down in his face, trickling down his chin, but no sobs followed. It was silent agony, agony he couldn't put into sounds, let alone in words.

He sucked in a shaky breath. "Are… are you sure?" he stuttered, queasily biting his fingernails, wishing, praying, begging, that somehow a different answer would follow, that these past memories they'd made weren't a bitter regret to the other.

"I regret it all," the elder replied, killing off the faith Jisung had left in any higher being out there.

But people only called out to them whenever they needed something and when they didn't help, they'd curse them out. That was exactly what Jisung was doing, blaming all his misery on the gods, that they'd spoken out some malediction over him, that they'd spun his life into a wretched direction. Might as well rip his heart out, rip out the pain, stab it out.

The Reaper let out a small sob. "I regret meeting you in this messed up situation. I regret not being normal for you. I regret ruining your life. If I had just stayed behind the scenes you could've been happy right now. You wouldn't be scared of death at every given moment and you could've lived your life. I'm taking it all away from you, by selfishly wanting to keep you by my side. So I need to let you go, because I can't watch you get hurt anymore."

The younger's stare was glued to a mug placed on the table, an edge chipped off, the white ceramic a contrast to the black outside. "And you think this won't hurt me?" he chuckled, a puny sound in all honesty. "Telling me you won't leave, but then you do this. Real classy."

"You don't realize how dangerous being with me is," the elder croaked, broken eyes meeting the other boy. "At first, I thought I was being a hero to you, turns out I was one of the villains."

"I am fully aware of the circumstances," Jisung snapped, feeling a sharp tip scratching his skin. He disregarded the burning on his back and kept his stern glare on the taller, "but since it's not possible for me to step out of it, I'm going on with it. Yes, I love you. Yes, it's dangerous. Yes, I'm fucking terrified." 

A shaky breath, from both sides. The tension was thick, hard to see through. Or maybe that was just the tears.

"So don't you dare run away now," the grey haired murmured, crouching down in front of the other. He gently kissed the rivers on his cheeks away. "Not when I need you the most."

Up to now, it was always Minho comforting the younger. In a way, finally being able to repay the male for all those times made his chest swell.

"I'm sorry," the elder whimpered, his eyes clenching shut at the aching in his chest. It was a feeling he'd ever experienced before, nothing had ever pained him more. People living, they were all united by love, but their pain unified them more.

"I'm so-sorry," he repeated, collapsing into Jisung's body, choking out powerless sobs as the wet marks filled out a big area on the boy's shirt. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay away from you, because I won't be fine without you. With you I felt real, like I existed and now I ruined your life."

"Hey, shh," the shorter shushed him. As if on instinct, he held the boy close, pulling one hand through his hair and rubbing comforting circles on his back with the other. He smiled tightly, pressing his lips on the crown of the male's head. "We'll get through this, probably. I promise we'll get through this."

"Don't promise things like that," the taller's muffled voice cut through. Minho let the male's arms engulf him, his embrace a warm solace that carried away the heavy hurt in his heart. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

"You can't tell me what to do," Jisung joked, to lighten the mood. The sun had started setting and the room had turned darker.

This moment, so fragile that both boys were afraid of it shattering, so they stayed close, just in one another's presence as a little comfort crowd, until the sun disappeared into the earth.

"I love you too."

For a moment, the boy forgot how to breath. He was dreaming, he had to be. It was late and he was hallucinating, no doubt. His brain cells were in distress, red lights flashing and siren could be heard in the far distance. "Could that be repeated?"

The Reaper detached himself from the other's body, grabbing his face and pulling him so close their noses touched. " _I love you too_."

Jisung fluttered, resembling a fish gasping for oxygen. "Could you say it one more time? So I can record it and put it as my ringtone, alarm clock–"

"God, you're a weird one," Minho groaned, pushing him backwards, sending him tumbling on his butt. He then smirked, and before the younger knew it he was seated on the ravenet’s lap again. The boy's fingers were traveling over the boy's torso. "Can I have your phone?"

Flabbergasted by the sudden change in attitude, the grey haired wordlessly nodded and handed over the device, because what the fuck, it was Lee Minho asking for it.

"Yes, thanks." _Thump._ He was on the hard once wood again, with Minho happily skipping off. "Soonie? Soonie! Let's make a video for Jisung!"

Jisung cracked a smile at the boy's adorableness. Happy... for the first time in a while he felt truly happy.

"Oh! This filter," the elder laughed, proudly holding up his masterpiece for the other to see. "Sung! Look at this! Am I not cute as a finger?"

"You look cute all the time," the shorter answered, grinning when Minho melted away shyly, red dust on his cheeks.

Jisung didn't want to become a memory, a bittersweet engraving in the boy's mind, but if that was what had to be done to ensure the boy's wellbeing, make his dream come true, Jisung was willing to evanesce.


	25. 24

_9 days_

"Seungmin, you're managing well on your own, right?"

Seungmin's head shot up from the desk, papers whirling down at the gush of wind he'd just created. He blinked himself awake and wiped the drool off the corner of his mouth. "Obviously, I'm doing fine," he announced, adding a humorless chuckle at the end.

He hadn't expected his boss to show up so suddenly after he'd seemed to have gone MIA permanently. The redhead had started slacking and had sort of claimed the office as his own, adding some decorations here and there, such as little picture frames and plants and candles. Most important of all: adding better lights. The yellow was just distasteful in his opinion.

Minho nodded, a distant smile on his lips. "That's good to hear," he spoke in a quiet voice. His head hung low, his gaze fixated on the floor. "Then, do you mind if I take the elevator? I have an important matter I need to discuss."

The younger frowned, wondering why the other was suddenly asking his permission. The room felt cold and an unsettling feeling had set in Seungmin's stomach. That smile, it wasn't genuine and it definitely didn't reach the boy's eyes. When Minho was happy his eyes would crinkle and his nose would scrunch up. Seungmin’s jaws would hurt by watching him. And his eyes; they were slightly swollen and an irritated redness was settled around them, like they'd been rubbed over and over again.

"Sure," Seungmin carefully answered, studying the elder's every movement. His feet were dragging over the floor and he looked so bewildered and disoriented like he was wary of anything that was happening.

Then Minho turned around and ran over to the younger, pulling him in a sudden embrace. The redhead's eyes widened. His arms were crushing his bones, so tight.

"You're such a great company to have around," the ravenet whispered, tone wavering. "Don't get too down about this, it's not too bad. I'm so thankful that you were dropped here. You’ve made me feel a little less alone."

"What the fuck? No problem?" the shorter said, patting the other male's back while his eyes shifted through the place in discomfort. "Is something wrong?"

"Not at all," Minho replied, letting go off the boy. He grinned widely, but his pupils were shaking. "I just feel bad that I left you to do all this crap on your own."

"It's fine, the Han Jisung problem is way harder to deal with than this," Seungmin reassured him, voice too tight to be convincing. The queasy feeling never left him, instead it only grew as the elder disappeared from his sight. His head was pounding slightly, but he shook it off; it would turn out alright, it always did.

Clenching his eyes shut, the boy hung onto the desk for support. His eyebrows were knitted together in confusion. "Why are the papers on the floor?"

Minho took in a shaky breath, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. "Thank you for being there for me, Seungminnie," he mumbled to himself, shuffling away silently. The doors closed and the ravenet leaned his head on them. He had to calm down; he couldn't present himself to the Council like this.

A familiar ding. He got off. The place was just as tacky as before. He followed the grim halls without much on mind. He already knew where he was supposed to be. He pushed open the door, immediately greeted by way too many pairs of eyes, most of them in shock at how the Grim Reaper casually strolled into the ‘holy place’.

Minho couldn't care less at this moment. "Could all of you please leave, I get that this is an important get-together, but I can assure you that this is more important than that."

"What do you know about importance? All you do is take the souls of the damned," an older man standing at the front snapped. He looked like he was in the middle of a presentation, annoyed that he got interrupted.

"Sir, not to be rude, but an evil spirit is more urgent than–" The Reaper squinted his eyes to read the graphs. "– more coffee machines. And I can tell you that this spirit is quite a vengeful one and ready to overthrow all of you. Did you know he can move freely? He came in here already."

Heated murmurs broke out under the members, most of them panicked and mad about how they weren't informed about this. It grew louder and more alarmed. Minho couldn't help but snort at how a ton of already dead people were suddenly horrified by the thought of dying.

"Could you please leave? I would appreciate it–" Sunmi massaged her temples at the loudness and chaos in the room, slowly losing her calm. "Enough! End of meeting, leave now!" Sunmi's shrill voice boomed.

Everyone froze in action, watching her with wide eyes. Bowing apologetically, they all rushed out of the door. The stream dispersed and thinned out until two remained.

The woman pursed her lips, taking a seat and crossing her legs. "Quite a show, once again, Lee Minho. They weren't supposed to know that, now look at unnecessary fuss you created. We have it all under control."

"Sunmi, why am I here?" Minho asked, sounding tired. No anger, not sadness, just pure fatigue. He noticed the woman opening her mouth to protest, but he was quick to continue, "This is the last question I have for you, I promise. After this I won't bother you anymore, just tell me."

The female's gaze softened. Gulping nervously, she ran a finger through her collar. "Oh," she breathed out nervously, "that's interesting."

"Sunmi, please, what else do you want from me?" the boy pleaded, sounding more desperate than before. "You don't have to protect me anymore, I'll accept my fate."

Sunmi took the boy's hands in her own, rubbing circles on the back. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm not asking about my life," Minho responded, feeling a little uncomfortable with this newfound side of the otherwise ruthless Head of the Council. "I need to know how important I am to this world or if I can be missed. So, why am I here?"

The female threw her hair over her shoulder, deeply sunken in her thoughts of the best way to bring the news. Her lips were pressed into a thin line. "How do I say this? Minho... you're... I brought you here because at the time you died, you weren't supposed to," she stammered, rolling a pen back and forth over the ebony wood.

"Then why am I _still_ here?" the Reaper asked on, already used to these kind of answers. His mood couldn't sink to any lower levels. "Why didn't you send me away after I hit my expiration date?"

"Well, you see, I got emotionally attached to you," she explained flatly, but the tiniest hint of emotion crept through her facade and the quivering of her blood red lips betrayed her. "I know I never showed it Minho, but you feel like a son to me. I’ve watched you mature over the centuries and I couldn't bear to let you go. The way you left the world… it was unfair."

The boy stayed silent, lips pressed in a thin line. He held his head in his hands. So now she cared about him too after all. He wondered how much harder everyone would make it for him. Guilt was eating him up alive, gnawing at his heart with knife-like canines, but he had to stay strong. Everything would turn out for the better, no more complications coming from a person who wasn't supposed to be there in the first place.

"You were at the peak of your life, so curious for the world. The kingdom was in panic when the crown prince went missing," Sunmi muttered, the gloominess getting to her too. Somehow, she already knew what she'd be facing. "I-I still remember how confused you were in the beginning. So amazed by your newfound powers, you teleported about anywhere, even if it would’ve taken a few steps.”

She giggled at the memories, though they made her heart quench. Her eyes watered and she quickly turned away, covering her face. "I'm sorry," she apologized, attempting to mask her sniffles with a cough. "That spirit, he used to be the Grim Reaper before you, as you probably already guessed. I don't exactly know how he transferred the curse to you, but he was quite the rebellious type, more than you. He must’ve snuck into the library."

Minho chuckled, a low spirited smile stretched on his face. "I gave you quite a hell of a time. I was the permanently angsty teenage kid you never asked for."

Sunmi smacked him over the head, earning an annoyed scowl and a hiss of pain from the younger. "That's for all the suffering and extra administration you caused me," she declared, before ruffling his hair. "I never regretted keeping you, but I knew I had to let you go sooner or later. That doesn't mean I was prepared to."

Minho bit his lip, hard. The metallic taste of blood spread over his taste buds, but he was not going to cry again. Sunmi, no matter how hard she was on him, was like family to him. Like that bratty older sister he couldn't stand, but loved nonetheless. He placed his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him.

"Could… could you be the one to send me off?" he stuttered, not believing he would be asking her this question, but it only seemed right, being sent off by the person who brought him in. "I'm running out of time, I can feel it and I can see it in my body too."

"How many have changed already?" the woman questioned, blinking excessively, but it was no use. The salty tears escaped and spilled over her lower lashes. Sunmi, the strongest person Minho had known, was crying. About him. He could feel himself getting emotional too, but he held it in. He was still to prideful to break down in front of her.

"I kind of feel like a swan, with how much white I see," Minho joked, to lighten the mood. "Is the great Sunmi crying because of me? I'm flattered."

"Shut up," she grumbled, straightening out the Reaper's shirt, like she was sending a child off to school. "I'll miss your annoying self."

"Ditto," he replied, patting her head and pulling out a pack of tissues. "I knew this would happen, so I got you this. Don't miss me too much, alright? And take care of Seungmin, he's a hot mess on feet. And also… please take care of… of _him_."

Sunmi nodded, and wordlessly said her farewell; it was a case where the silence spoke louder than words ever could. When the white feathers fluttered around her, she couldn't help but catch one. Running her finger over it, the first sob left her body, pained and defeated. She crouched down, arm covering her eyes, wishing that way the tears would somehow stop. Her mind was clouded, dark. As much as she wanted to break the rules, she knew that her profession didn't tolerate being selfish. If she had to choose between being sad or being disappointing, she'd take all the misery of the world on her shoulders.

<><><>

Somehow, whenever the two were together, they'd always end up lying down, so close to each other that their limbs would be entangled. Minho was sprawled out over Jisung, the younger silently suffering under the other boy's weight. As much as every cell in his body urged him to complain, he couldn’t, because he'd never want to see that smile fade for as long he could.

"You're so lucky I love you," Jisung groaned, rubbing the elder's stomach. "I love you so much that I'm willing to suffocate for you to be comfortable."

"Good," came the other boy's reply, not showing any signs of movement.

The shorter pouted, shooting daggers into the back of the taller's head. Secretly he hoped that maybe, just maybe, the other would let him breathe again. Love was pain, they say, and Jisung now knew what they meant. His eyes then caught up on something, an image that he unconsciously had saved in his mind, but now it wasn't the way he remembered it.

"Minho, why is your earring not glowing anymore?" the younger asked, pushing the boy off so he could see it better.

"It's not?" Minho asked, baffled. He reached out to the skull accessory, fiddling with it shortly. His jaw dropped when the soft click was heard. The chain had opened. "I can take it off."

The grey haired's eyebrows knitted together. Looking back at how many bad discoveries they made, he'd turned suspicious of every little change. "Is that a good thing or..."

"Yes, yes it definitely is," the ravenet reassured quickly. He nodded at high speed, begging for the other to believe him.

The boy pressed his lips together, playing with the other's fingers and silently melting at how small they were. He didn't know whether to take it as it was or to question him. However, when the time limit crept back into his mind, he'd decided that he shouldn't be dwelling on such little things.

"Wanna follow a dance tutorial with me?" Jisung asked suddenly, pleading with the best puppy eyes he could create. He probably looked weird, because the disgusted judging face of Minho caused him to immediately look away, scratching the back of his head. "Or not." 

"No, let's do it," Minho stopped him, grabbing the younger's hand and pulling him up. "I heard that Straight Kids was pretty big right now and that they have some cool dances."

"Stray Kids," the shorter corrected, typing it in his laptop. "My neighbors are going to hate me, so Felix will probably barge in to either join us or curse us out. Depends if he pulled an all-nighter or not. How does Miroh sound?"

"Yes," the taller replied, clapping his hands unenthusiastically with the biggest Cheshire cat grin.

"You're too cute, I wanna squeeze you," Jisung muttered through gritted teeth, a little too aggressively seeing how Minho gasped in horror.

"Just kidding," Jisung waved it off, "unless," he added under his breath, looking out of his eyes psychotically. "Do you need other clothes?!"

"No, I'm good," the elder laughed nervously, fixing his gaze on the screen, not daring to look away from it.

"Whatever you want," the grey haired shrugged, pressing play and losing track of it all within a second of the video. _When did they get to the chorus?_

Minho, on the other hand, was effortlessly keeping up. Movements graceful yet powerful at the same time. He was mesmerizing, movements flowing strongly like a river. The younger halted his actions, just watching the ravenet gave him a feeling of euphoria.

He was in a trance; all he could see was Minho. Minho, Minho, Minho. How beautiful and lovable he was and it turned out he was talented too. Jisung was in a bubble of adoration. All he wanted to do was adore the boy, tell him all the sweet things that came to mind. His body moved smoothly and his concentrated frown intimidated him in a way. People should’ve had to pay to see this. He hadn't even noticed the music had stopped and that the exact same boy was waving his hands in front of his face worriedly.

"Sung? Jisung?" he called out. After not getting a response for the nth time, he decided it was time for desperate measures.

The younger definitely snapped out of it when he felt that stinging pain on his cheeks.

"How are you so good at this?" Jisung huffed, falling onto the floor and taking on a fetal position.

"I mean, I was a dancer before," Minho nonchalantly bragged, taking the shorter's wrists and pulling him back up to his feet.

"Wait what?" The grey haired didn't know when it happened, but suddenly he was standing up again and standing in the beginning and pose.

"I was a dancer," the elder repeated, guiding the boy's hands into the right postion, "and I'm going to help you."

The corners of Jisung's lips turned downwards, deciding to not question the sudden knowledge on that. He'd probably mentioned it to him sometime. "That's unfair, you have a head start."

"Hush, relax your muscles, else it'll look static," the ravenet shushed him. "You'll be able to do it too in no time. It’s important to keep the beat. Your heart will automatically pump along to the rhythm; follow that."

The younger shivered at the hot breath tickling his neck. Damn it, he'd run through the pits of hell for this boy. Maybe he was making a mistake, digging himself deeper into his grave by pulling through with this dead end. Still, he didn't care, he'd follow him till his feet hurt, till he was buried six feet under.


	26. 25

_8 days_

Voices, too many voices. The whispers mashed together inside his head, murmuring through one another and forming one big glob of nasty chimes. His skin was burning with frost, not enough to numb him yet. _Kill him, just stab him, free yourself..._

Jisung looked over at the figure who was silently sleeping next to him with steady breaths, while his own hitched. A soft moonbeam caressed his features, making him even more ethereal in this lighting. Serene and at ease, as it should be.

He had to get away from him, he had to save him from himself. Frantically throwing of the covers he ran. Through a tunnel where the only goal was to get away, as far as possible, with the sickening chants licking at his heels.

 _Kill, kill, kill..._ They chanted like a cult offering. They closed in, forcing him down on both knees. He covered his ears as if that could block out what only one could hear, because it was all in his head. His eyes clasped shut, tightly as if he'd never wanted to open them again.

"Go away, go away, go away," Jisung begged in a low voice, not far from a whine. His hands balled into fists as he cowered down even further. "Leave me alone, you're not here, I'm blocking you out."

He yelped, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth and eyed the door in fright. When it remained quiet on the other side he let go of his breath in relief. Carefully he took the hem of his shirt between his trembling fingers. Lifting it, he cringed at the sight that greeted him.

Open blisters and blue veins, running up and almost meeting his chest. He quickly let the fabric down again, no one would want to see that. "Could they not choose a more practical place to force me to keep a weapon? Or maybe just stop forcing me to keep a weapon I don't need?"

 _The only way you’ll be able to end it if you end him._ Jisung looked up at the figure, eyes dark. He wasn't scared anymore, he'd grown exhausted of constantly fearing for his life. He'd come to peace with the fact that he didn't have that much time left and he was going to make the best out of the little bits he had left.

There was a black mass of smoke, eyes glowing bloody red with a grin made up of sharp teeth, like a siren lulling him into his own grave. _We know you can see us, so why keep ignoring us?_

"You don't tell me what to do," the boy snarled, glaring daggers at the mass of nothingness. "In case you've forgotten, I'm still a rebellious teenager."

 _Don't make it so hard for yourself, you're a pawn in a game, you're not in control_. He couldn't care less about what they were trying to say anymore, he was tired of evil spirits talking in riddles. Couldn't they say exactly what they wanted and leave already? Was it that hard?

Before Jisung could even fight it a force hit him in the back. He fell over, hands hitting the floor so hard they bled. He wasn't in control, they were right, because without any reigns in hand his body was moving back into the bedroom.

He felt a touch on his shoulder, pulling him back. It was telling him silently to not do it, that he was stronger than that. He couldn’t lose himself over that; his life was worth more fight. It halted him – momentarily. He ripped himself out of the embrace.

He wasn't in control. He was watching from behind a screen, seeing how it all went down. He saw how his hands drew the knife, how they held them above the sleeping body of the person he had sworn to never hurt.

Then a flip switched. This was the way to end his suffering, the chance of having a normal life back. He'd grown exhausted of fearing for his life, fearing that every moment would be the last he had. He was dead on his feet and deep down, in the smallest fraction of his mind, he wished for it all to be over. He wanted it to end.

He held the blade above where the heart was supposed to be located, everything was blank. Feelings, thoughts, he couldn't see anything else except the gleaming of the metal in the harsh silver lighting and where it was supposed to go.

 _Jisung, stop_ , a soft whisper told him. He felt a warmth on top of his hand. _Let me help you. We won’t let him win this time._

He momentarily calmed. His muscles relaxed and he breathed in. His eyelids shook while he internally battled the antagonist he’d hidden beneath smiles. Whenever he’d been in an affectionate environment it had always been more bearable, but at night it was dead silent. He was losing.

_Jisung, no!_

Lifting both arms above his head, he had his goal set. His arms went down.

At that moment, Minho stirred.

Jisung's stumbled backwards, hand clutching his racing heart, going up to grab at his throat. Smoke left his body, the voices sniggering at him. He felt sick. Bile was rising in his throat. He ran for the bathroom, collapsing and emptying the contents of his stomach. He was a murderer – not yet –, but he was going to become one. He caved in. They’ve come for him; the monsters had turn so much bigger than he could take. His breathing was ragged. Clutching the sides of the sink so tightly his knuckles turned white he stared at his reflection, he was a monster. That's all that stared back at him, an evil creature that didn't deserve to walk this earth any longer.

He opened the tap, squirting an unholy amount of soap on his hands. He scrubbed, he scrubbed, on and on, trying to wash the sins away. Every part, he went over it too many times. His skin turned red, first out of irritation, but after going over it for the nth time, he colored the water red with blood. He couldn't wash away the guilt, even if he tried.

Hell had raised, it was hell on earth. He couldn't do this anymore, he couldn't take the yapping of his imagination any longer. There was no holding on anymore, his rope was snapping and he was falling down into a pit of hopelessness. There was the screaming of his heart. It hurt too much. Emptiness, but pain, a fatal combination.

Eerie silence made his skin crawl, every hair raising. They were coming to get him; all their crimson eyes were on him, for him to color the floor crimson with his remains. Circling around him, laughing at him. It was face whitening. He pulled at his hair, turning into a ball, plucking them out one by one. It was a mess around him. A mixture of blood and water and hair and tears.

The door opened. The darkness dispersed, through the window, the ventilation. All that was remained was Jisung, shielding himself from the terrors. The ones he'd made up and the ones that were actually real, he couldn't tell the difference between them anymore, both were suffocating him, dragging him further into his pit.

"Sung?" Minho's soft voice called out, looking around a little distortedly. As soon as the disheveled presence of the boy caught his sight, he gasped. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"Stay away," Jisung croaked, not daring to lift his head from his hands. "They're here, they're going to hurt you _. I’m_ going to hurt you."

The ravenet bit his lip, thinking of what to do. He first closed off the water before taking the younger in his arms. The boy struggled in his embrace, muttering about how he was dangerous, but Minho cradled him close to his chest, whispering sweet nothings into his hair. He eventually went limp.

He lifted him to the couch. He'd clean up the mess later; first he'd have to get Jisung back into a safe state of mind. He pried the male's hands away from his face, forcing him to face him. He was in shambles, everyone could tell as soon as they saw him. The scratches on his face, the tears in his eyes, the blood smears.

 _Clueless_ , it wasn't something unfamiliar to Minho these past months, but this type of clueless was a different one. He was lost; he didn't know where to start. This wasn't a problem he could find a solution for, one he could simply fix. He couldn't take a shattered mind and force the pieces back into place.

Therefore the Reaper just sat there, drying off the boy's hands with a towel he'd gotten and wiping the blood off the places he could. The clothes were probably going to stain, but that was the least of his worries at that moment.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Minho asked as he went to wipe the younger's face, trembling. "You don't have to, but I'm worried about you."

Jisung stayed quiet, but his head was loud. It was buzzing, questions spiraling from left to right. How could he tell what had happened? Minho would definitely hate him if he knew. This couldn't be compared to all those other times he'd thought the boy would hate him. The elder's level of forgiveness was something not even a god could reach, but Jisung doubted he'd be received with open arms if he found out about this.

"I don't want to die," Jisung choked out suddenly, pulling his knees up to his chest. He was shutting Minho out, he had to stay away. "I don't– I don't want to die." 

"Hey, hey," the ravenet spoke, reaching out to touch the boy, only for the other to flinch away as soon as he felt the physical contact. "Jisung, could you please listen to me?"

The grey haired didn't budge. The words flew past his ears, he couldn't process any of them. His brain couldn't take in any extra information. He didn't dare look the elder in the eyes, he didn't have the pride to do so or the confidence. He would break, seeing the trust the other had in him. He couldn't be trusted, he was a time bomb on legs, one that had no power over his own actions, but had to deal with all the consequences.

"Listen, I decide whether you die or not," the male continued softly, resting his hands on the Jisung’s shoulders.

"What power do you hold, Lee Minho?" Jisung replied sharply, stone hard expression on his face. "As good as I remember, you can't even take my life." _Unlike me._

The Reaper smiled, but it wasn't one of those sweet smiles Jisung knew, there was a slight hysteria in the elder's eyes and it caused an unsettling feeling to wash over the boy. He nodded cynically.

"You can't die. I am death," the ravenet started in a low voice, so calm it made Jisung shiver. This couldn't be Minho speaking. "I decide if you die or not. Not God! Not the Heavens! Me!"

Before the younger could see it coming, the other male was full on yelling at the air. He wasn't trying to convince Jisung of anything anymore, he was now trying to convince himself that there was something he could be doing about this hell bound fate.

Minho laughed unreasonably, his eyes wide open. He his lips spread into a grin while his body shook, the rage inside burning him up. "I decide whether it happens or not!" he cried out in pain, he was cursing at the Heavens for toying with him like that, for giving him the chance to exist longer. "Not… not the Heavens."

"Minho, calm down, please," Jisung begged, rubbing his face in frustration. "I get that you're mad, but screaming at the top of your lungs is not going to solve anything."

Apathetic, he'd gone back to being apathetic to such things, locking his feelings away so they couldn't get hurt any more. They were already bruised, he didn't need them to be broken too.

"You're right, but, ugh!" Minho tugged at his hair, dropping onto the couch and kicked at the air. "I can't take how they are letting this pass and involve an innocent person in their mess!"

The younger let out a forced chuckle. He knew he was far from innocent. Whether it was the Heavens or the demons taking him, it was still his body doing the dirty work. "What could cheer us both up?"

"Movie night and cuddles?" the elder suggested, face lighting up immediately. However, it was an act, he had to remain unaffected so Jisung could build on him. Outburst like that, he couldn't have those anymore.

"Movie night and cuddles it is," the other agreed, throwing DVD cases at the ravenet. "Pick one or more, we have all night."

Minho nodded, mindlessly scanning through them. He smiled fondly noticing how the majority of them were Disney movies. He flung his choice back across the room. "Hey, Sung, what about your classes or job?" he asked, clutching onto a pillow.

"I took a vacation from both, I need to sort this out first," Jisung replied, not completely lying. He quit his job, but he was told he was welcome back anytime, "but I'm scared I'll have to retake this year. I’ve missed so much and missed a lot of deadlines."

"That sucks," Minho said, sucking on a lollipop, making Jisung wonder when he even got it, only to remember Minho could levitate objects. "What's modern education like?" the boy asked on.

"Sometimes I forget you're an old man," the younger stated with a playful eye roll at the offended gasp that followed his comment. "Well, my elder, modern education is fucking stressful and made me cry way too many times."

"That sucks," the ravenet repeated. "Back in the days, you could do as much as walk out and probably discover a whole new species of plants or something. Also I'm lucky I learned how to read, the lower class never got that chance."

The grey haired's eyebrows twisted, puzzled at this information. He couldn't recall ever telling the boy about that aspect of his life, because even he didn't know about that part.

The younger crashed down next Minho, taking up almost all the space, also Minho's personal space. He snuggled close to him, ignoring the gnawing in his chest, everything was okay, it was fine. For now, nothing was wrong and he had to take in this moment too. They were normal. For now, they were a regular couple, enjoying or fretting over matters as taxes and dates.

Jisung sighed. He didn't look for any trouble, ask for any more excitement in life. He was content with what he had close to him. He saw in how the higher power wasn't willing to lend a hand, so they were left to save themselves with the little knowledge they had.

He held on tighter to Minho, to make sure he was real, that he wasn't a dream he was holding onto.

"You know, I was once told that the more you know about something, the harder it becomes for you," Jisung mumbled, clinging onto the other's body desperately. "We've come this far, we shouldn't give up now."

Minho smiled and kissed the top of the younger's head, his eyes shimmering. "You'll be okay, I know it."


	27. 26

_7̷̨̧̢̲̣͉͙̫̗̺͌͆͛͋͜ ̷̨̦̮̲̞̺̤̙̏͐̆̈́͊̀̋̕̚d̸̨͈͍͇̝̯̥̜͇̩͓̖̀̃͛͛͗͊́̌̒̄a̵͎͊̋̂̎̿͐͂̆̆ỵ̷̈́͂͊̾̏̄̒̄̋̎̓͆́s̵͕̥̹̥̗̿_

A slap in the face was what greeted Minho first thing in the morning. A usual slap in the face hurt, but this wasn't just anything. Minho glared at the culprit hawkishly, spitting out the feathers louder than necessary. He frowned at the blond standing in front of him with a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

The angel shot him finger guns, which only deepened the frown on the ravenet's face. "No wings in the house! Goddamnit!" He blew his bangs out of his eyes and crossed his arms. "This isn't even your house! Put your shirt on, man." 

"Well, I just like being around you," Chan shrugged, going back to pour milk in his cereal. He leaned against the counter, shoveling a spoonful into his mouth with raised eyebrows. He mumbled something incoherent through the food, making Minho scrunch his nose up in disgust. 

"Yes," he nodded, reaching for his hat on the other side of the room. He squinted his eyes in annoyance when it didn't come his way. He sighed, closing his eyes and tried again. The object didn't budge and the Reaper felt as if it was mocking him. If it had a face, it would be sticking its tongue out. 

"Min, what are you doing?" Chan asked carefully, gaze tracing the other's arm. His curiosity fell into a smile, not one of happiness, but it was something else. Minho hoped he hadn't seen it, but the expression was hard to be missed. _Pity_. In other's eyes he looked pitiful, helplessly pitiful. 

The boy let his arms down, both dangling next to his body like limp noodles. "It's nothing. I need to go." 

"Where are you going?" the Australian questioned, a little too boldly for Minho's liking. He froze in his tracks. He knew something, which meant he knew too much. 

"To my office," the ravenet spoke slowly, careful he wouldn't spill. He didn't dare face his friend. If he would, he knew his face would betray him. No matter how cold and distant he could be toward most, Chan would jump over his wall and break it down from inside out. He could read him like an open book. 

The Reaper could hear a sarcastic snort come from behind him together with a bowl being slammed onto the counter with a passive aggression that gave the first warning signal. "What are you supposed to be doing there?" _Don't you dare lie_.

The ravenet's blood ran cold, running out of his face and every other part of his body. He was stiffened and pale as snow. "I…" he started, tapping his foot up and down, faster and faster, "I need to get some things sorted." _That's the truth, just not the completely_. 

"Minho, I can read minds," Chan deadpanned, cutting off the other's inner turmoil. "I promised that I wouldn't, but it seems I’m not that good at keeping them." 

Guiltily Minho turned around, at snail's pace it seemed. His lips were pressed into a thin line. "I'm sorry." That phrase had been programmed into his mind. The amount of times he had repeated it, he'd lost count. He felt apologetic toward everyone. At this point, he was even sorry to the Council, that he messed up their plans for him, that he messed up their whole organized structure. That he messed up. 

Chan looked down, rubbing his face. "It's not your fault, Min," he said, trying his best to make it sound upbeat and light, but the corners of his eyes were shining, glistening. 

"It kinda is," the other retorted, biting his lip and staring at the ceiling. Hands were crossed behind his back as he bounced from side to side. "I know that it's a selfish thing to do, but I've grown so tired too. I've never belonged here, yet I couldn't leave for over 400 years." 

The angel grimaced, fiddling with his hands, cracking his knuckles, folding them, clapping. "I know," he spoke, the sound wrenching and strained, "but is there really no other way? Could you not do it any other way?" _Can't you let Jisung go?_

Even though he was smiling, Minho's heart felt heavy; so heavy it had pinned him to that exact point on the ground. He couldn't move, he couldn't go over to comfort his friend, he didn't deserve to have that privilege. "If not me, then it'll be him," he muttered through his teeth. "If it's him, there will be an even bigger problem. Not only for his close friends and family, but for the whole Cou–" 

"But what about us?!" Chan suddenly burst, stopping the other mid-sentence. Minho's mouth hung open, his eyes like saucers. It was clear the boy was shocked, but Chan couldn't stop himself anymore. "Don't you think I know?! I can hear your thoughts, for God's sake! Seungmin's memories, saying goodbye to Sunmi, I know it all!" 

"Chan, please calm–" 

"No, let me finish! Fuck! I can hear what keeps you up at night!" the blond raged on, the ringing in his ears was blocking out the calls of protest, the begging for some rationality. "Why, Minho?! Why are you leaving us?! For this boy you _just met_? We've known you for so long, so how... How is it so easy?!" 

It was deadly, the silence in the room could kill anyone who dared to disturb it. Minho's eyes were fixated on the floor, darting from corner to corner. The heavy breathing coming from across fuelled his guilt, feeding the monster to eat him alive, but he knew Chan would never try to guilt trip him. The breathing died down, fell still. However, it still wasn't entirely silent. Soft whimpers, whimpers that weren't supposed to come out, cries that had been suppressed for after the moment would come. 

Eyes squeezed shut tightly, Minho tried his best to block them out. "Chan, I'm sorry." 

"You're doing it again," Chan chuckled, voice hoarse and nasal. He breathed out, forcing out a laugh and rolling his neck. "I've never thought your conscience would come up. Took you centuries, congratulations!" 

"There really is no other way," the Reaper stated firmly, deciding his friend deserved an explanation, an honest and full one. He ignored the sarcastic remark at the end. "I have to give up my place and take up the one I had to long ago." 

"You're really thoughtful these days, Min," the blond continued, still giggling to himself. He was pushing the subject away. He didn't want to accept it; it wasn't real. 

"If I go, my position doesn't exist anymore, which means that thing's position won't exist anymore." The ravenet knew that Chan was listening. Although it didn't seem that way, he knew his friend was taking up the information to help him cope later. "If my position is gone, nothing is binding him to the living world anymore and he'll disappear for good," he mumbled, "hopefully." 

"I never expected you to be this mature," the angel commented, drawing random forms on the marble. "You've found your place, maybe even your 'purpose'." 

"Thank you." Chan's muscles visibly tightened at those words. For him, they came out of nowhere, but Minho wasn't done yet. "I know that you helped me out too. Behind the scenes, you helped me stay out of Heaven. Thank you for talking to her." 

The boy didn't speak, instead he turned away from the other, leaning onto the cold stone and looking out of the window distantly. 

The Reaper sighed at the troubled state his friend was in, one of the people he'd held so close to him, like a family member. "Can you give me a hug?" 

"Will you erase my memories too?" Chan grumbled, still not looking at him. He was too confused to be mad. Everything about it seemed so illogical, yet it fit in the puzzle. 

"I would've done it if I really wanted to," Minho responded as a matter of fact, before throwing himself onto the other, trusting he'd catch him. Those strong arms taking him in was all he needed to feel somehow at ease again. 

That embrace broke the chain of thoughts that had held him captured, imprisoned in his own mind like a cage of negativity. For the first time, his head was empty, freed. 

"I never thought I'd had to let you go," the blond whispered, because if he'd speak up his voice would surely betray him. He ran his hand through the ravenet's hair like a father comforting his son. “I really believed we’d live on together forever.”

"I never thought it be this hard to let you go." Minho didn't know how he managed not to let the tears slip this whole time, but one way or another he held himself strong. "Take care of my cat." 

"Your what?" All that was left was white fluff and a sudden meowing at his leg.

<><><>

Jisung shrieked when a pair of arms snaked around his waist, nearly dropping his glass of orange juice. Bewildered, twisted his neck only to meet a trusted pair of onyx. Immediately a gummy smile spread from ear to ear. "Fancy seeing you here." 

Minho kissed the boy on the cheek, grabbing a cracker from the table cheekily. "I could say the same," he grinned, placing the cracker between his teeth and booping the younger's nose. He snuggled into him even further, nuzzling the crook of his neck. 

"You're so clingy," Jisung sighed lightheartedly, already seeing he wasn't going to be able to move from his spot anymore. 

"Only for you," the taller beamed, grabbing another biscuit from the counter. "Are you up just now?" 

The grey haired glanced at the clock to check how much time had passed already. He felt relief wash over him when he saw it was only eleven in the morning. "Nah, I didn't feel like getting dressed." 

"Are you willing to get dressed for me?" Minho asked, tilting his head slightly. 

"Hard choice," Jisung yawned, before taking a gulp from his drink. He shrugged the other off and shuffled to his oh so loved sofa. "I need to sit down for that one." 

"Are you sure you didn't just roll out of bed?" the elder questioned him again, dribbling after him like a little kid, curious and wide-eyed for the boy. Once they sat down, Minho immediately made it his job to play with the shorter's tousled locks. "Your hair begs to differ." 

"I might not get dressed because of that," Jisung singsonged, nose crumpling up at the weather forecast. 

"Then I'll get into pajamas for you," the ravenet replied quickly, bouncing in enthusiasm. "I don't necessarily need to go anywhere, as long as I can spend time with you." 

Jisung would be lying if he said he didn't turn mushy because of that line. Matched with that genuine little smile, double kill on his heart. He did feel a little guilty that he most likely ruined the boy's idea, but he didn't have the energy to go out, he was people-exhausted. 

He hummed in response, stuffing his mouth with his brunch crackers. "You're being cheesy and way too sweet."

"It's snowing," Minho commented out of the blue, the male's eyes fixated on the outside with an unconscious grin. Just watching his face light up, Jisung could feel himself mirror those actions. It wasn't that he loved snow himself, but he could appreciate how it could spark excitement in some, if not most. 

The younger rested his chin on the ravenet's shoulder. "Do you want to go outside?" 

"Do _you_ want to go outside?" Minho fired back, though he couldn't hide his eagerness. No matter the effort he put in, his feet would wiggle on their own and betray him. 

"Sure," the grey haired agreed with chuckle, launching himself off the sofa. "I'm going to pack myself up with five layers of clothing now. Don't break anything, okay?" 

"I'm not that dangerous," Minho commented, lips stretching into a toothless smile. 

Jisung shot him a look, unimpressed. Without uttering another word he left the room, leaving Minho with his thoughts. 

He knew he wasn't only doing this for Jisung, but for himself too. It made him feel egocentrical, although he knew it wasn't. He was doing this for the other's sake, the other's life, to let him live. Of course it would hurt at first – Minho hoped he meant enough to cause at least the smallest amount of hurt –, but he knew that Jisung would be okay. He'd find someone new, someone who could give him the life he deserved. He would help kids see the magic of music, he'd take them on that journey, he'd live well with a newfound love and in the love of his family and friends. He'd _live_. He'd be safe and the pain he was going through now would never have to be experienced again. 

He'd be happier, eventually. 

The door creaked open and Minho was up to his feet. "Let's go, let's go, let's go!" 

He linked his arm with the younger and almost dragged him outside, only for the latter to hit him over the head. "Jacket, idiot." 

"Oh yeah," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. He hurried, struggling to get the coat on. "Jisung? Is this my sleeve? I can't find my sleeve." 

Snatching the clothing from the boy's hands, he held it up. "You're incapable of such simple tasks," he grumbled, helping with buttoning up. "I can't believe half the world's population fears you." 

Minho ignored the tugging in his chest and but on his brightest smile. "I don't know either," he chirped, "so I don't want to think about it." 

Jisung could sense the underlying warning in his tone, his mind trying its best to find a new subject. He fumbled with his keys loudly, as the thinking capacity wasn't present at the moment. "Got it," he spoke under his breath, sensing the atmosphere warming up again. 

They ran down the corridors of the building, like it was elementary school all over again. Greeting passersby in the hall cheerfully, they hadn't felt that young in ages and Jisung was what they called 'the prime of his life'. 

Once they reached the exit, Jisung felt the soul crushing content blossom inside him again together with the cold winter wind hitting his face. He watched the snowflakes get caught in Minho's lashes and to see him giggle when he was able to catch one was a blessing to his sight. 

"Woah," the other gasped, suddenly staring at the younger, gaze traveling up and down. The blushing of his cheeks wasn't that obvious, since the cold was tingeing them red too, but he felt a little insecure. However, he didn't dare ask what it was, patiently waiting for the explanation to come. 

Of course it did, because Lee Minho lacked a mouth filter at some points. "You look like a walking marshmallow," he gushed, taking the shorter's cheeks in his palms. "So cute, way too cute. Like a little dumpling." 

The boy pouted, though he couldn't cross his arms with all the fabric around him. "How do I look like food?" 

"No comment," the taller responded, patting the snow out of the younger’s hair and pulling his scarf down slightly. Jisung didn't know what was going on, but the glint sparkling in the elder's eyes made flustered him. He could feel his heart rate speed up. 

Lips connected with his, softly and carefully, like they were unsure of doing this. He turned into a statue, stiffened and tensed. His mind went blank, the no kissing rule long forgotten. After all, it was Minho who took action. 

He loosened up at this, leaning in and wrapping his arms around the taller's neck with snowflakes twirling down from the air. Beautiful, it was beautiful. No matter how short it was, it was a beautiful life, even with the salty tears streaming down right then. 


	28. 27

_7̷̨̧̢̲̣͉͙̫̗̺͌͆͛͋͜d̴͇͔͔͉̺̫̿̾̂̎͆́̑̋̔̈ͅͅa̶̲͐̂͐̓-̶̨̨̡̬̜̼̱͚̦̟̻̔́͋̾͠͠ͅ ̸̢̯̺̙̟͕̻̪͎͌̓͆̃͝͠͝e̸̮͇͖͔̱̗̺͍̯͆̒͆̊͂̐̆̏͘r̴̡̢̹͈͖̭͉̳̘̫̾̋͑̓̆̐͒͆͂͑̽͌͘̚ͅr̴̜͙̖̮̫͘ͅǫ̴̯̯̮̙̠̪͆̏̔̐͗̈́͘r̸̼͓͙͖̦̯͇͖̰̼̱̍͒̐̓̽ͅ_   
  


"Let me take you out," Jisung mumbled, clinging onto the other's arm as his feet dragged through the snow. It was numbing him, starting from his toes and going up. Even though he was shivering, the cold seemed distant.

"Huh?" Lee Minho, always ready with his intelligent replies, frowned. "Isn't this 'taking me out?"

"A regular human high school date kind of out," the younger answered, to clear up the confusion. "We're both going to dress up and be nervous and I'm going to pick you up at your front door and I'll deal with Chan's threats of treating you right and bringing you home on time and then we'll be too late and get in trouble."

All of that said in one breath, the boy looked up with a hopeful gummy smile, eyes glistening. "Want to go on a date with me, Lee Minho?"

"Shall I?" Minho giggled, the giddiness in his stomach feeling more intense than ever. There were no butterflies, it was like there was a war raging inside of him. "Be on time!" He pressed his lips onto Jisung's, quickly and shortly.

Jisung stiffened. Had he heard it correctly? Did he even have anything planned? Good god, he was a mess. He opened his eyes again when the gush of winter air hit him in the face. "When will he stop doing that?" he smiled to himself, seeing as the spot in front of him was now empty. It was cold again, the chilliness of dread and reality came back in again.

There was an indescribable uneasiness lingering around him, the whispers louder than ever. It was coming to an end, everything he felt comfortable in was ending. Fate was cruel, heartless and inevitable. He couldn't change the path fate had set out for him. Of course he could replace a few bricks, changing the smallest aspects, but he could never change its destination.

With a sigh, he opened the door to the room next to his. "Felix?" he called out, hoping the boy was there. He turned around the corner, to the living room. "Oh, Felix! And Changbin... hi."

"Good day," the dark haired replied with a nod, just staring the other with question marks above his head. "How have you been?"

"I've been better," Jisung replied truthfully, taking place on the couch. "I'm sorry I left so abruptly, it's been hectic for me too."

"Don't fret," Changbin waved him off, also reassuring him, though the dark haired wasn't aware of that. "Besides, Jeongin's grades have improved since I've been helping him. I'm an English legend."

The boy rolled his eyes playfully, the elder's teasing not an uncommon thing. "Sure you are."

Felix looked up from Changbin's shoulder, setting his game console on the table. The knowing gaze in the boy's eyes tugged at his conscience, painfully and slowly ripping out his heart. "Why have you come?" the blond asked, though the trembling of his tone showed that deep down he already knew. Though pointless, there was a small spark of faith in him, that maybe there was another way.

The grey haired shook his head, killing the flame as soon as possible. "I'm going away," he said, lips curved up, but his eyes were down. "I don't know where I'm going, but I'll see where life takes me."

"Oh, like a road trip?" Changbin chimed in, his attention completely drawn on the other. Despite his smile there was dismay in his eyes. "Why? When?"

"I need to settle things with myself, I guess," Jisung spoke a little uncertainly, the outcome unknown to him too. It made him break out in cold sweat, but he couldn't avoid the unavoidable. He accepted it, at last.

The point where he'd started challenging time had come, he wanted to see death, actual death, in the eye. He wanted to glare it down, scare it the way it had scared him. Laugh at how they couldn't take him all this time, how they couldn't take him until he would personally show up in front of their presence. That was the confidence he'd wished he had, but instead he was an animal, caged up in a rusty prison, letting fear eat him up like a cannibal, getting underneath his skin, taking in his soul from inside out.

"Can I get a hug?" Jisung asked, holding out his arms for the two to crush him.

Felix was the first to run toward him, squashing his body down and forcefully bulldozing the sad out. "Don't go," he sniffled, clinging onto the other as if he'd be gone the moment he'd let go. "You're scaring me."

"I don't know, Lix," the grey haired chuckled, a sad melody. "I don't know what's coming, but my gut tells me it's not good. If anything is going to happen, I'm here to tell you everything I still wanted to."

He noticed Changbin’s hand hold onto his shoulder, almost protectively. _Think this through_.

"What if you didn't," his closest friend since his childhood murmured, voice cracking already. He shut his eyes tightly to keep the tears from coming out.

"Then I'll regret it," Jisung spoke under his breath, rubbing the other's back. "There isn't much to say, just that you were a blessing."

"I love you," Felix blubbered, nuzzling closer. "I'm sorry I was a brat to you this whole time."

"You weren't," Jisung comforted him with a laugh. "Changbin, where are you?!"

They were crushed by another person. "Jesus, Changbin, you didn't have to jump," Jisung groaned, since he was the one to receive most of the weight.

"Shh, he couldn't reach it otherwise," Felix whispered, loud enough for the oldest to hear, causing his to gasp, emotionally wounded.

"Kidding, love you, Binnie," the grey haired, reassured him, doing a peace sign with a sheepish grin.

Changbin waved it off, but his expression quickly turned serious. “Is this for… Minho?”

Jisung frowned. “Did I tell you about him?”

“I did,” Felix interrupted, gaze shifting between the two with confusion. “Wasn’t I supposed to?”

Leaving Felix’ question open, Changbin replied, “He’ll take good care of you.”

Jisung nodded, turning to the other boy. "Lix? Could you help me with my code rainbow?"

"Finally!" the blond gushed, getting up and throwing his boyfriend off. He ran to the door. "I'll make you so breathtaking the world will need CPR!"

"Isn't that already the case whenever I step out," Jisung uttered, wiggling his eyebrows.

The Australian stopped in track, turning around slowly. "No," he stated firmly.

The other snickered, but as soon as the two stepped out, he grabbed his side, hissing at the burning. He was burning up. The last stop was nearing and Jisung was far from ready.

<><><>

Chan sipped his tea, infested in the book he was reading. He turned the page delicately, desperate to know what was coming next– "Chan! Chan! Chan!" A sudden force dropped on top of him, forcing the air out of him. "I've been asked out!"

"Get off, I can't breathe," the blond huffed, slapping the other on the back repeatedly. The ravenet rolled off with the biggest gummy smile Chan had ever witnessed on his face.

"Sorry," he giggled, hands holding onto the armrest and his head the only thing sticking out above. "I've been asked out!"

Chan nodded skeptically, patting the boy's head. "This is the first time? What have you been doing all this time you weren't here?"

"I don't really know either," Minho shrugged with a thoughtful expression. He snapped his fingers. "Anyways, I need help. I need to get dressed up."

"Right," Chan said, slamming his book shut and turning to the open door of one of the bedrooms. "At last! We have a case!"

"What?" Minho peeped over the boy's shoulder to see who he was talking to, but it was dead in there.

"We need to make Minho the prettiest boy out there!" the blond yelled out. He picked up Soonie. “Right?” he spoke in a baby voice. “We’re gonna make Minho the prettiest boy. Right, Soonie?”

The cat looked less than unamused. Chan cleared his throat awkwardly and released her from her suffering. She ran for her life, onto a cabinet. Chan was convinced she was glaring at him.

“We really don’t click,” he muttered to himself. He clapped his hands. "Anyways, I'm more ready. I've waited centuries for this. Not that you're ugly, my friend, but I'm going to make you breathtaking."

Minho nodded slowly, vanishing and suddenly having reappeared next to him with a good portion of his wardrobe in his hands. "Chan, bring out your clothes."

"On it," Chan replied, running out and coming back with his grand variety of color.

Minho frowned. "Isn't Heaven, like, a holy place?" he asked, picking up one of the boy's shirts in disgust. "Why do you of all people own only black clothes?"

"I don't do stereotypes," Chan stated, throwing the rest of the heap on the boy, which he caught with a small 'oof' and drowning him in the stuff even further.

"Stop trying to hide the fact that you're a softie," Minho chirped once he recovered from choking on fabric.

"Hush, you," the blond glared, to which Minho only innocently smiled. "Now choose, wait don't. I'll let the magic begin."

"Are you my fairy godmother now?" the ravenet asked, holding his fingers up as if he were in class and asking an important question. "What do high school students even do these days? Do they have time to go out?"

Minho watched as the blond eyed every piece in the jungle. He snapped his fingers. "Silk."

Chan held out his hand, the flowing fabric flying in his direction. He held it out for the other to grab, patting his shoulder. "Now listen, sweetie, you're already lovely as you are, but we're going to make you gorgeously beautiful."

For some reason the look on his friend's face scared him shitless. For the next hours he just sat there, with the boy troubling himself over his hair, his makeup, anything really. He had lost sound of the amount of times he'd decided against his creation. When the doorbell rang it felt like the bell freeing kids from their classes.

He was ready to jump up, but Chan pushed him back into his seat again. "I'm opening up," he stated, not open for any argument.

But first, he slung his arm over the boy's shoulder and Minho felt all his muscles unlocking. "Don't panic, not yet," he grinned, noticing how stiff and nervous the other looked. "It'll be fine. I don't think Jisung knows what he's doing half of the time either."

He ran to catch the doorbell, ripping open it open with his sharpest glare, glowering Jisung down with the most judgmental expression he could muster. He clicked his tongue. "What's the plan, young man?"

"I'll take him out for ice cream, sir," Jisung replied quickly, clearing his throat and fussing with his collar. He was ready to bow down to this man if needed, maybe those were the nerves speaking. "I'll take good care of him, I promise."

"Geez, no need to be that way," the blond chuckled, placing his hand on the shorter's shoulder. "Ice cream in the winter and evening, though?"

"I'm broke," Jisung whispered, head turning red in the sudden embarrassment.

"Understood," Chan nodded although the shame remained. "Minho, get your ass over here!"

Minho's ears perked up, fanning himself with his hands in panic. "What do I do? What do I do?"

"Don't make him wait, idiot!" Chan hissed over his shoulder. He turned to Jisung with a smile. "A moment, please."

He took his friend by his wrist, dragging him along since the ravenet was chickening out. It was safe to say he practically kicked him out. "Hi, Jisung! Have fun, you two!"

Just like that, Minho was pushed onto the porch, jacket thrown after him and the click of a lock showed that he wasn't getting in again. The elder stood there for a moment, frozen as he tried to process what exactly happened.

"What's your opinion on Italian ice cream? Gelato?" Jisung asked, gently taking his hand and leading him. Minho was snapped out of his trance, trusting the other completely to take him.

"I like it," Minho beamed, skipping to the grey haired's side, excitedly swinging their arms back and forth, doing it with so much force that Jisung could feel his shoulder begging for mercy. He decided not o comment, the taller looked too happy for him to do that. "What are we doing now?" Minho asked on, the smile never fading once.

"High schoolers can't drive, so step one is taking public transport," the younger replied, the boy's brightness infecting him too. "Also, I don't own a car."

The ravenet's eyes widened in fascination as a bus pulled up at their stop. "I've never taken public transport, I always teleported wherever."

"There's a first time for everything," Jisung chimed, guiding him up and greeting the driver. "Go find a seat, I'll get you a ticket."

"Okay!"

Jisung shook his head, chuckling at the childlike enthusiasm. He wouldn't be surprised if the elder would yell along to the stops too. He thanked the driver shortly before taking the empty seat next to him. "Are you excited?"

Minho stopped his feet that were swinging back and forth vastly, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. "Is it obvious?"

"It's cute," the younger commented, looking away shyly. "You also look really nice," he mumbled afterwards. "Not that you normally don't!"

"You look great too," the ravenet twinkled, how adorable it was that he got flustered. He took the boy's head – that way stopping him from continuously straightening his slightly oversized polo — and put it on his shoulder, stroking his hair. "No need to stress about it."

"What are you—"

"Shh, look at the city lights," Minho shushed the younger, the colors all reflecting in his irises as a contrast to the dark onyx. They looked like blankets of stars high in the universe and Jisung wished he could see them sparkle like that forever, that he could be one of the reasons.

"They're beautiful," the grey haired agreed, rubbing circles on the back of the elder's hand. The intercom rung, Minho quick to mimic the 'ding' and then giggling to himself. It called out the next stop. "We need to get off, though."

Minho just hummed in response. "Can I press the button?"

Jisung face palmed, pointing at the red 'stop' sign. "Go ahead." 

"Yes!" The elder pumped his fist, pressing the button and standing by the exit, ready to jump off. The bus stopped, launching them both forward. "Thank you!" Minho shouted at the driver, before hopping off, taking the younger's hand to help him down.

"What a gentleman," the grey haired gushed. He linked their arms. "It's not that far anymore, I promise."

Walking to the stand, Jisung could feel his cheeks heat up whenever the boy would take a step, how the fabric of his shirt would flow along with his movements and how it revealed his collarbones. _Wow_ , he thought, _he's hot_.

It was calming and it was the comfort of one another's presence that distanced the presence of uneasiness. After the nth 'is this it?' Jisung finally stopped in front of a cart with fairy lights decorating it. "Vintage but great."

"Woah..." the taller gasped, already debating about what flavor to choose or maybe he should just choose all. Except raisins, raisins in ice cream sucked. He looked at the boy next to him, face sparkling. "Wait, are we going to see the lights?"

"Possibly," the younger mused, giggling when Minho's face brightened up even more. He never thought that would be possible, but here Minho was, being his sunshine in the darkest times, lighting on the dark days that seemed to be constantly raining on him.

He pulled the ravenet close to him, feeling the warmth of his body. "How many do you want, Min?"

"I want it all, but two should be enough," the other replied, eyeing each flavor with much thought. "Vanilla, because I am indecisive. Mint chocolate, because only geniuses can think of that."

"Got it." Jisung gave him a peck on the cheek, going to the seller for their order. Minho watched with a fond gaze at how the boy would stutter slightly and how he would twiddle with his feet and most especially how he came back with food. Anyone should get themselves a man like that.

He took the sinful sweetness from Jisung's hand. "The hero that you are," he spoke under his breath. "You don't know half of it."

"It's fine, come on," the grey haired said, leading him into the winter lightings, the lights hanging down like icicles.

"It's so pretty," Minho spoke airily, trailing his hand through them, taking Jisung with him. "It looks like we're walking through space. We're walking on the stars, look!"

Jisung smiled, spinning the other around to the soft music playing in the background. Other people were sending them looks, some looking at them in fascination of young love and others were judging them for being so cute in public.

The pair didn't mind, they just happily twirled around, Minho showing the latest dance moves he learned from choreography videos and Jisung cluelessly following his actions. They didn't know when the slow dancing started, but the crowd had started thinning out and all that remained were the two of them.

Jisung had his head resting on the taller boy's chest, eyes drooping starting to droop. "I love you," he mumbled tiredly.

Minho looked up to the winter's night sky. He could feel the aura around Jisung, how it was weakening. He knew he was withering away, he'd known for a while now, yet he had greedily decided to keep holding on for a little longer, ever though the rope made both their hands bleed. The demon was closer than ever and he was forcefully peeling off the boy's petals.

"Would you still love when I'm gone?" The question was out in the air before he could stop it, but right now that was the only fear he had. He feared that Jisung wouldn't, that once he was gone, no memory of him would remain, that his existence wouldn't be real anymore.

"Of course I would," Jisung sputtered, visibly paling as his expressions turned blank, "but you aren't going anywhere, right?"

The winter wind flurried and Minho breathed it in, breathing it in because it would stop his breathing. He didn't want it to end, but to let go. He looked up at the silver powdered sky, knowing fully well he was going to join them. He was going to get lost up there, but if only one living being remembered him, it felt like there was at least one thing holding him to earth.

"Not really," Minho shrugged, pressing a kiss on the other's forehead. Maybe he'd love him when he was gone, but he'd no longer need him. His voice would turn into a distant echo in the back of the boy's mind and all that would be left behind was the shadow of his ghost.

"I'll always love you," the elder whispered, rocking them back and forth. "Even though I'm not around, I'll always watch over you, like a guardian angel you deserve."

In the strangest world, they were both starting to fade away, fading into strangers to themselves, yet they felt so strong together, like they could explore space together and find the secrets of the stars. Time stood still, but Jisung had to go back to a place where time flowed and that couldn't be found in Minho's still world.

Even though they were far from what they knew, even though the way out wasn't one they could enter together, they never lost hope for that exit. It had felt that way since the first time, an unexplainable draw. Together, they travelled the darkest part of the universe with the empty hopes of getting out one day.

However, in the far distance, seeing through the thick mist, there was a monster lingering, its bright red eyes on them at all times, not a day passing without it being there. Everything he saw, everything he controlled. He was the black hole on their path and they had ignored completely.

It had happened too fast for Minho to comprehend. Out of nowhere, the black smoke had surrounded them.

"Jisung!"

The vengeful infinity had swallowed them whole.


	29. 28

_end._

  
"Jisung!"

Flashing lights were everywhere, like a cloud in a thunderstorm. The world distorted as they surrounded them like a whirlwind. There was only one thing his mind could think of, the other's safety. "Jisung, get behind me!"

The younger crouched down, icy wind scratching his skin open. He whimpered, internally cursing at the fact that of all times, his gut was right this time. He clenched his eyes shut. Sharp icicles were tearing patterns into his flesh, like lions at their prey. The air got colder and the surges got harsher and the darkness towered over them and—

And then it stopped. The screaming of the wind flew by like a faraway memory, a childhood nightmare that couldn't do harm. It was still, inside a safe fortress where he could be done no harm. The warmth of another person was enough to scare all the cruel monsters away. His blurry vision could only make out one thing, the wings were definitely white.

Wrapped around him like a cocoon, no matter how many times he'd blink, there was no change in the tint. A blinding, heavenly white glowered in the moonlight.

Jisung pushed the elder away, maybe a little too harshly. No one was in their rational mind at this point, the fight or flight instinct was being triggered and in no way did they have clear which was stronger. "When… when did this happen?" he stammered, the dreadful feeling of betrayal in embarking in his stomach. However, he knew better than to let emotions speak, he'd learned how to lock those away over time.

Then again, he wasn't a saint either when it came to being honest. He also had a tower of secrets that he'd wished would never be revealed, knowing it would break Minho down. 

"I'm sorry," Minho muttered, arms laggishly dropping down next to his body while his shoulders shagged, "but that's not something for now."

The feathers adorned his body, reminding Jisung that no matter how hard they tried to bury away the facts, Minho still remained from another world, an immortal world where a human life span was like a second passing. Over in the blink of an eye, forgotten as soon as over. It was an agonizing torture Jisung believed was his punishment for the sins of his past life. 

Jisung stayed silent, not wanting to know in all honesty. He couldn't care less about the things that had been held behind closed doors, at this point all he could think of was how little time he actually had spent with this boy and how quickly he had put his trust into him, how he had just laid his life into his hands without too much conscience.

"You're shaking, have my jacket." Without giving Jisung the chance to refuse the offer, he'd draped the coat over the younger's shoulders. On the outside, Minho seemed calm, secure in what he was doing, but Jisung could see how his pupils shook or how much difficulty he had with closing the buttons up, needing at least three attempts each. His hands couldn't hold onto anything without nearly dropping it.

"Right, all done," he spoke rather absentmindedly, stroking the boy's hair shortly. He was fidgety. "Get into safety, you shouldn't get hurt more." 

Jisung, though, was frozen like a state, unable to move. His eyes were widened at something behind. He anxiously yanked the elder's sleeve, wishing he'd get the hint. Minho only frowned, turning around so slowly it heightened the anxiety. "What–" 

A claw clenched around his throat, slamming him to the ground, viciously grinning with all humanity drained from any sense of empathy or compassion. "Not so strong anymore," it smirked. 

Choking noises left Minho, struggling to loosen the grip. He glared at the demon, which only made his ego skyrocket. For all the times they disregarded him as a problem for later, he was going to show them just how much of a hassle he could cause. "Where's your confidence, pretty boy?" 

The distant cry brought the ravenet back to his alertness. With a vast movement, he wrapped his legs around the other's middle, flipping them over so that he was the one on top. With a sneer, he pressed his arm on his neck. "Don't test me." 

"What could you do without your powers?" the figure taunted, showing off his bloody teeth. Minho wanted nothing more than to punch that sickening smirk off his face. "You got in the way, so I'll make you suffer twice as much." 

"What do you mean?" The boy unconsciously loosened his grasp, muscles letting go of their tenseness. So there was more to the happening after all, a point he'd once again missed. The noises faded. 

"You really think this was all fate?" The ghost laughed, coughing when the other pressed his knee down on his chest a little harder. His focus may have lessened, but that didn't mean he wasn't still cautious.

"Stop dragging it out and tell it," he hissed, his voice a low threatening tremor. He had enough of his bullshit, he was going to kill him for good. 

The male chuckled. "I sent you the letters." 

The puzzle pieces connected and suddenly the big picture was clear in front of Minho's mind. How he couldn't find anything when he'd visited the Heavens, how Sunmi was just as clueless as he was. They'd been on a wild goose chase while the exact source was with them all the time. "That's why they didn't know anything, it was you... You came to ruin everything once again." 

"I'm a parasite living off their incapability," the ghost sighed, though he was more troubled than what he showed. Then, in a flash, Minho caught the explanation. There was a flicker, turning the demon's body invisible for a split second. Small embers withered off his face, leaving another black patch on his skin. 

"You're dying off." It was a statement, something that the other was more than sure off. 

Now that he'd caught on, he noticed how sickly the other looked, how close to the brink of coexistence. The dark circles under his eyes, the purple veins that got more obvious with time, his skin was a transparent white. 

The ghost snickered once again, causing the ravenet's blood to boil. "That's why. In the end, I wasn’t going to live forever." 

Jisung wasn't anything like this bastard, he was just unlucky enough to be reborn with his face. "You know that by killing Han Jisung, you won't prolong your life? He can't die, not as long as you're here." 

"I can always try." Before Minho could blink an eye, he was gone. In his hands he held the ashes of who used to be trapped in his grip. Cursing under his breath he jumped up, wiping the blood off his forehead. His eyes jumped to every corner off the area, frantically searching for where the other had disappeared to. He couldn't let this happen. He had to stop it. 

Then he saw it. A dark shadow was hovering above Jisung, the boy's back pressing into the edge of the building. His knuckles were white with the amount of force he used to grip onto the bars, clinging onto them for life. 

The Reaper didn't know where the sudden surge of power came from. For the last time he let the shadows engulf him in their endless chilliness, hearing the whispers of their voices and feeling the goose bumps all over again. Internally, he thanked them, for helping him out. They were like old friends to him, but like all friendships, they had to part. 

With a bang, he fell down again, in front of the younger like a shield. "Stay away from him." 

The ghost's mouth fell open in shock, this wasn't supposed to be happening. His powers had been taken away from him, they'd been weakening off and they were supposed to be gone. This wasn't the plan, this wasn't what he'd expected. He stumbled backwards at the unpleasant surprise, as if he'd been pushed away. "How did you do that?" 

"Didn't you hear?" Minho spoke mockingly, eyebrow cocking up. It was a way of calling out a challenge. "Stay away." 

The demon's eyes turned dark. Subtly, he shook his head, almost unnoticeably. He couldn't do that anymore. So he ran, toward them. 

Reacting quickly, Minho yanked Jisung away first, before catching the impact of the blow with his entire body, falling forward face first. Groaning on the floor due to the suddenness of the crash, he was unable to answer the snarky remarks. With shaky arms, he tried to lift his body from the stone hard concrete, only to fall back down just as painfully. "Please, stop this."

He spit out the blood and wiped his lips, stumbling back up again. A punch landed on his cheek. He was down again. "Don't hurt him." 

"Why can't you give up already?" the figure sneered, more parts of him dispersing with every hit he gave. He grabbed the ravenet by the collar. "You're nothing against me, you weren't anything before me either." 

"Let him go, please," Minho begged, whimpering as he felt his skin burst open, the hot red liquid now running down his face. "It won't do anything for you." 

Bringing him up first, he slammed the boy back down with so much force the concrete cracked around him, like a broken glass. "Shut up!" 

Jisung, who'd been watching in horror this whole time, had enough. He couldn't watch this go on any longer, he wasn't going to be a useless decoration here anymore. "Stop hurting him!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, screaming out all his fear. 

Acting on impulse, he ran over, ripping out what he'd been trying to hide for so long. "You want me dead?!" he yelled, looking bewildered as he held the weapon pointing right at the demon that had been the cause of everything to spiral down. "Try and kill me! I dare you! That's what you gave me this thing for!" 

Just like that, Minho lay there, forgotten on the floor wheezing and fighting for air. He struggled back to his feet, leaning on his thighs for support. "Jisung, no."

Jisung, didn't hear. Without hesitation he turned the blade around, so it was now aimed at himself while staring straight into the sociopath's eyes. "I don't want to give you the pleasure of doing it yourself." 

Minho took a breath, forcing his legs to take him forward. He stumbled, almost hitting the ground again, but when he saw Jisung draw the knife, ready to impale himself, he found his strength again. He ran, no sprinted, to him with only one thought running through his mind like prayer. _Please be safe, please don't die_... With a last leap, he fell onto the boy, locking him in his arms. "Stop." 

Jisung trembled, so much he let the knife fall, the metal clattering against the floor, its pieces spreading before turning into blinding lights that whirled away with the wind. "Minho, why?" 

The ghost smiled wickedly once again. "Is that what you think is going to save you?" He let out a laugh as the tingling in his body got stronger. They'd just brought themselves to their own end, without him having to do too much for it. 

"Not me, but him," Minho muttered, breathing heavily. Grabbing his side, he fell to his knees. "You can't exist without me." 

The figure stopped in his tracks, bringing his hands to his face. Chanting out a series of 'no's', he watched as they glowed orange like embers, before turning to ashes. "I can't go like this! I can't be reborn like this!" 

"You should've thought of that before you messed up the flow of fate's river," the ravenet growled, the fires reflecting in his dark eyes. 

And he watched, watched as every inch of his vengefulness burned him up like he had to be doing in the depths of hell's flames. Every agonizing scream, every cry for mercy, he let himself take them in like a symphony. He couldn't run any longer, he couldn't escape. Minho would never let him escape after bringing danger to the life of the one he had come to love so much. 

The last bits of the demon got carried away, floating in the wind like ashes. He'd killed him, for eternity. 

"Lee Minho!" Jisung let out a sob, falling down and grasping for the elder's shirt, feeling that he was still there. 

But to kill him, Minho had to kill himself. In a world where hope got crushed and happiness dispersed, the most dangerous thing was to love. Love was what made people act irrationally. Impulsive on the rush of dopamine. Forgetting all their morals, their virtues. In the chaos and confusion of love it was pointless to put up a resistance to it. To die in the name of love, Minho wanted to laugh at his past self for ridiculing the idea. 

He coughed, yet smiled through it. He ran his fingers passed the boy’s jaw. “You’re free now.”

"No… No!" the grey haired cried, his fingers entangled in the boy's dark locks. "You're so stupid!" 

Minho sighed deeply, laying his head on the younger boy's shoulder and patting his back as his eyes turned misty. "Don't be too sad," he whispered. "He's gone. You won’t have to worry anymore." 

"You can't go! I need you here!" the younger croaked, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. There were no tears in his eyes, only the aching of what was going to happen. 

"I'm here, I'm not going anywhere," Minho mumbled, letting the younger go and caressing his face. "I'm not going anywhere." 

"Please don't," Jisung breathed out shakily, holding onto the boy's hand and pressing it close to him. "You can't, I won't let you." 

"Meeting you, it was worth waiting for," the ravenet choked out, grinning painfully. "You made me feel alive. I _lived_ when I was with you." 

"Just a little longer! Please, just a little longer!" Jisung sobbed, almost doubling over. He was going ballistic, holding onto Minho's hand like he was holding onto his lifeline. "Please! I love you!" 

"So do I, I love you too." Minho smiled as the tears streamed down his cheeks. It was time to let go. For the last time, he pressed his lips against Jisung's, a short peck. "I always will, but you'll have to forget me in order to live."

Jisung only cried harder, once again pulling the other close and letting the tears fall onto his chest. "I won't, you know I can't!" 

Minho gentle kissed the younger's forehead, running his hand through his hair. "I'll always be with you. You won’t have to miss me." 

Like that, a wave of tiny sparkling lights, a wave of fireflies, surrounded Minho's body like a tornado, engulfing him in their brightness. Minho’s hand slid down, bouncing onto the concrete in sync with Jisung’s rapid heartbeat. He bawled as he tried to take a hold of the other, but he couldn't.

Minho was gone; they had taken him to the sky. He was able to shine there and guard at night. 

He wasn't able to speak, the only sound that could leave him were the wails of pain. He felt like he'd just lost a part of himself, he couldn't let him go like that. It was too sudden. There were still so many things he'd wanted to do with him. He wanted to grow old with him, live a long and fulfilling life with him. He wanted to tell him he loved him just one more time. 

Though, like Minho had said, he had to forget him. His mind turned hazy and the world momentarily stopped, all he could see was white. It felt like he was running through his life's course once again, over and over until the missing gapes seemed normal, till they weren't missing gapes anymore. 

Jisung blinked, the surroundings clearing. He was in perplexity, perplexed about where he was, how he got there and why he was there. He assumed he blacked out, but he couldn't remember drinking anything. He slowly got up from the floor, dusting of his pants. His head was buzzing. 

He stood in silence for a while. Motionless. All he did was stare. He stared at the unexplained footsteps, at his red tinted hands. His mind paused with the possibility of him being a murdered.

“Jisung!”

He followed the voice. “Changbin?”

“Jesus, you sure are fast,” the boy huffed, resting his hands on his knees. “You were a stumbling mess after a few shots, but damn… We told you not to go up.”

“Oh.” He looked at him blankly. “Sorry.”

Changbin smiled as an acceptance of apology. “You coming down?” he asked.

“You go ahead. I’ll follow,” he replied, looking down at his hands once more. “I like the view.”

Changbin nodded, slowly. “See you there, then.”

Jisung waited until he was sure he had left. A massive tension went through is skull.

"I have to take some aspirin later," he spoke to himself massaging his temples. When he was about to walk, he felt a stab go through him like a dagger through the flesh. 

His heart was aching, aching for something. Leaning onto the railing he grabbed his chest, the tears falling like endless waterfalls, but he couldn't remember why. He choked out a cry, covering his face with both his hands as he slid down to the ground. The snow numbed his body, the white crystals flaking down from the sky and onto him.

He wiped his face, the sound of giggles resonating in the back of his mind, a vision of the prettiest eyes lighting up and glistening in the reflection of the winter sun. Catching one snowflake, he watched it melt in his hand, too quickly for him to enjoy its presence.

He didn't know how to deal with the lament, because he couldn't grieve about what he didn't know he lost. Whose jacket was he even wearing? He looked down at the snow in front of him, a shining silver reflecting the moonlight catching his sight. He picked it up heedfully.

A soft, almost human, touch of wind stroked his cheeks, the salty rivers being wiped off by a delicate gush.

_"See you in my next life, my love."_


	30. to make one's home

_resetting_

Loud steps clashed against the tiles of the hallway, accompanied by groans and the dragging of boxes. A loud kick and huff echoed through. "All this fuckery because the elevator is out of order."

The male bent over to push his luggage to his new apartment, but instead slid down, just laying face first on the floor. "Ow, my back..."

Once he heard rushed footsteps near him, he quickly tried to compose himself. Frantically he took a stance where it looked like he was tying his shoelace, he hoped it was convincing.

"You okay there? Do you need help?" a deep voice asked. He looked up to see a boy with freckles and a bright smile holding out his hand. Thankfully, Jisung took it.

"I'd really appreciate that," Jisung replied sheepishly, the red dusting over his cheeks. "How did you know I was here?" 

"The walls are thin as hell, I'm surprised I'm the only one who came out." The boy stood there for a while, like he was lost in thought. He then snapped his fingers. "Oh right! I'm Felix."

"Jisung," the other replied, giving Felix the suitcase as he took two boxes. "I'm sorry if this is troubling you."

"It's fine," Felix waved him off, his smile never fading. "Now tell me where you need to be."

"Number nineteen," Jisung said, struggling to find his way as the boxes were covering his sight. He huffed, deciding to just keep watch of where Felix' feet were going. 

As they walked there, Felix gave him a heads up that the block they lived on could get a little crazy sometimes. So far he'd heard that there was a Hyunjin who always complained about the noise and how he could hear them shit talking, that Seungmin always reminded everyone to pay bills and so on. He couldn't wait to meet them.

"There you go, good luck on your roommate," the Australian — as he had learned during their little chat, together with another guy called Chan – said.

Jisung's eyes widened at the surprise statement, halting his movements like he got frozen. "What."

"Nothing, he's a big sweetheart, don't worry," Felix reassured him, patting his back and rolling over the suitcase. 

With a sigh of encouragement, Jisung slapped himself on both shoulders twice, chanting 'you can do it' over and over. He shook his head, then his limbs, cracked his knuckles and rung the doorbell.

 _One._ Nobody opened.   
_Two._ Nope, still not.   
_Three._ Oh god this was awkwa—

The door flew open, revealing a young man with the prettiest eyes shining in the light. "Hello?"

"I— uh, hi," Jisung grinned, you know, like an idiot.

The two just watched each other, a sudden bolt of déjà vu hitting them right in the heart. Vaguely they could hear one sentence hover through the air.

_See you in my next life, my love..._

The boy at the door was the first one to snap out of it. "Sorry about that," he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm Lee Minho, you probably already knew. You're the new roommate."

The expectant gaze left Jisung dumbfounded for a moment, before the links in his mind clicked. An introduction! Of course. "Han Jisung."

"Han Jisung?" Minho smiled as the name rolled off his tongue. "I've been dying to meet you."


	31. seungjin : how they came to be

꧁ꕥ꧂ꕥ꧁ꕥ꧂

** promise ;; seungjin bonus **

Curled up, away in a corner, a small boy, no older than seventeen and never aging past that ever, clenched at his chest, waiting, no wishing, for any form of action. The slightest movement, just one thump; all that was needed for the slightest bit of reassurance. It wasn't real, it couldn't be; the only explanation was a fever dream. He placed his fingers in his neck, his wrists; nothing, it stayed as still as a corpse. He tried again, over and over, every artery that came to mind he had passed. The results remained unchanged, and the only thing growing was the boy's horror of reality falling down on him like lead had been dropped in the pit of his stomach.

So stuck in his frenzy, the boy hadn't noticed the figure that had appeared in the corner. A slim and hazy outline of a woman looked down at the shivering heap on the floor, clicking her tongue. "Oh goodness," she muttered under her breath, forcing her gaze away from the mournful sight. She snapped her fingers impatiently. "Hyunjin. Hyunjin!"

A lanky boy popped in, seemingly startled; the shrill voice yelling his name was enough to bring him off his wits. "Yes, I'm here, hi," he heaved, almost dropping his clipboard as he tried his best not to double over. Remembering his boss was still right next to him, he cleared his throat. It was fortunate she'd closed her eyes. "What is it you called me for?"

Awaiting an answer, he tapped the papers with his pen, in sync with the way his knees were buckling. Sunmi had that effect on people; with her chin held high, back elongated, she had an aura of power surrounding her, daring you to even do as much as breath too loudly.

She could do as much as glance in Hyunjin's direction and he'd be on the floor begging for forgiveness. Paranoia. It was the side effect that came with being a complete klutz on the work floor.

"Take care of him," she ordered curtly, waving into the room, her eyes still shit tightly. "He's come too soon. Take him away."

Hyunjin opened his mouth, but the woman had already turned around and all that reminded of her presence was the clacking of heels that grew softer with the second.

"Alrighty then," the boy spoke to no one in disbelief. "Why did you ask me?" He questioned the air, before continuing in a high pitched, squeaky tone, "Oh, that's because we like giving you a hard time and Chan is unavailable because he actually gets days off!"

He switched back to his usual voice, removing his bangs from his sight rather violently. "Thank you for that answer! I'll go to work right away!"

The whimpers grew louder and Hyunjin was brought back to why he was there in the first place. He crouched down next to the boy, throwing away his irritation, knowing that wasn't going to be of any help.

The boy immediately reached to his side, pulling out his gun and loading it, only to become aware that it wasn't working. He tried again and again, until it clicked. "Who are you?!" he yelled, taking aim. "I'll shoot you if you don't reply."

"Hey, hey," he said gently, scared that if he'd talk too loudly he'd cause even more panic than what the boy was experiencing already. He took a step forward and the boy steadied his hands as good as he could. "It's alright, deep breaths and focus on me, don't look anywhere else except at me. I won't hurt you, promise. Besides, I don't think you can hit me with those trembling hands."

"Don't move!" the redhead demanded through his gasps and tears. "I said I'll shoot!" he screamed, voice cracking in his hysteria.

"I'm not scared of you," Hyunjin said, unfazed by the situation. "You can't hurt me. At least, not physically. You're hurting my feelings by aiming at me, though. So please, calm down."

The boy lowered the gun with a stagger, all the energy draining from his limbs. And he cried, with his face in his hands, he cried. The bawls, how Hyunjin wished they'd end; seeing such a young person in a place like this was enough to sadden him, and seeing him in that state made his heart quench even more.

It took a while, but Hyunjin had all the patience, because he knew how overwhelming it was. Soon the gasps died down to sniffles till they fell silent. Hyunjin took it as his que to speak. "Better?" he asked, smiling faintly when the redhead nodded slightly. "I know it's not easy, but I'm going to have to throw you into the deep."

The boy blinked, feeling his throat clenching again. "What?"

His head felt heavy, fuzzy. All his thoughts, his memories, they were getting strung together into a long nothingness. He couldn't quite make out certain events, his family's faces started fading, their names sounding foreign. His life, all he cared about, birthdays, events, no matter how deep he dug back, he couldn't make out anything. It was blank, a white insignificance with only one thing clear and lettered in black. His name, _Kim Seungmin_.

Hyunjin laughed bitterly. "I'm sorry, but it's going to happen fast and it'll be hard to keep up." He held out his hand in a welcoming manner, inviting the other into this sad existence. He couldn't help but feel bad for speaking the next words. "Will you come with me?"

Hyunjin knew how this was going to go. He'd have to keep them busy, keep them company, find them quite endearing to be around, coming to like them, and then send them away to never see them again. He had always been that way, getting attached to things that were meant to end; he'd live in the moment, telling himself that this time it would be different, he wouldn't have to say goodbye.

It already hurt when he felt how the redhead clung onto his hand tightly, like he'd found comfort in that small gesture, wanting to believe that the physical contact would keep him out of danger zone. Well, Seungmin didn't know anything else, quite frankly, so he'd take any conclusion he'd draw as truth. He felt like a lost child without the consolation of his parents. That was until he found solace in the stranger's – maybe it wasn't a stranger and had he just forgotten about him – firm hold. Like a chick waddling after its mother, he'd follow this boy.

"Please don't freak out," the dark haired muttered out of the blue, and for Seungmin that exact sentence sounded like an invitation to freak out. As he was about to bombard the taller with questions on why, what, the other pulled him close and the rest was a muddy fog. All Seungmin knew was that one moment they were in that pit of hell and the next they weren't. He was going to scream, pull his hair out in stress, for he wished that he could return to what his heart was missing, but his brain couldn't remember.

"I'll explain, I swear," the taller spoke speedily, his words coming out like a waterfall. "But first, don't yell at me, please. First of all, I'm Hyunjin."

The way Hyunjin held his hands up, just in front of his face, seemed as if he was trying to protect himself from the impact of the scolding. He got scolded quite _a lot **,**_ in case anyone hadn't noticed. It wasn't that he was an intentional troublemaker, trouble just came looking for him at every given chance. He grinned when the other nodded awkwardly, rubbing his hands together and looking at the floor, cheeks puffed out. Adorable. 

The boy mumbled his name in response, and Hyunjin made a note not to mention that he already knew that. "Pleasure," he replied instead. He got a chair from the side, guiding the younger onto it. "I suggest you take a seat."

"Why?" Seungmin question, though still obliged. The smallest bit of concern sparked at the severity of the other's face that had been so bright just moments ago. The way he'd kneeled down reminded him of times when bad news was brought. This had to be bad news.

"You died," Hyunjin mumbled, avoiding eye contact. "Right now, there is a war raging back on earth and you were one of the victims. I don't know the details, but you deserve to know that much."

He cautiously dared to glance up again, only to meet with Seungmin's blank stare; he watched as he now inertly played with his torn uniform, the green making him nauseous. "I could've guessed from the hole," he whispered, and that was when the dark haired saw how he was tugging at the gaping gash by his chest. "That was one precise shot."

"We'll fill it up with new and happy memories, alright?" Hyunjin told him, taking a hold of the boy's hands, so he wouldn't "It's really not good to sulk about this, or else you'll end up like the current Grim Reaper. It's sad to see him."

Seungmin looked at the elder, his stare almost accusing, like e didn't believe someone could be at peace with something like this. "Don't you feel bad about it?"

"I don't know how I died," the dark haired mentioned lightly, stretching back up, "and I never will, so it's best to just let go of it."

"How long have you been here?" the younger asked, testing if his quavering knees could hold his weight. When he regained his balance, he nodded at the taller, as a way of telling him he was good to go.

"Long, really, really long. I think," he counted on his fingers. "Over 300 years now? Definitely more than 300."

"You're ancient," the redhead flapped out before his brain could even process it. Seeing the passive aggressive smile of the other, he covered his mouth like that could take back the words.

"Thank you, I wasn't aware," Hyunjin replied, sarcasm lacing every edge of his voice.

"I'm sorry, I'm just shocked," Seungmin squeaked, making a wry face. "I should shut up, I know."

"No, it's alright," the elder dismissed it, leaning closer with a smirk. "But get this, I'm not even the oldest here."

"No way," the shorter gasped, halting on spot to take all the new information. "What even is this place?"

Hyunjin shrugged, throwing his arm over the boy's shoulder to utter him to keep up the pace. "I guess the living would call it Heaven."

"...that's anticlimactic," the younger spoke with a scowl, eyes turning to saucers once again. "I shouldn't have said that. I should _not_ have said that. Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

"Calm down, take a breath," the dark haired responded, still pulling the other, who was now reciting some prayers, along through the corridors. "No one has been offended, no harm has been done."

"You sure?" Seungmin inquired, evidently unconvinced. "Because I feel bad, really, really bad."

"It's all cool," Hyunjin encouraged, rolling his eyes when the boy crossed himself just in case. "Now, I'll give you a quick course about here. Firstly, it's a workplace. I'm a messenger, but got assigned to you because the Head Angel is off right today. They kinda, take care of deaths and usually the dead don't come up here, but go down to where the Grim Reaper works – he's not allowed to come here, don't ask – and I'm going take you to your place." _I'm going to get rid of you_.

Hyunjin hated himself already. As expected, he'd taken a liking to the younger. Hell, he'd forgiven the boy for aiming a gun at his head! As he lead him to the door that only had a way in, he felt his heart drop with every inch they got nearer. He couldn't do it; seeing Seungmin's hopeful expression, the trust his eyes held, he couldn't break that. He didn't want to, even if he'd have the ability to.

"Seungmin, stop," he said, grabbing the younger's hand. "I'll take you somewhere else."

The boy turned around, still holding onto the handle. "What? Is something wrong?"

Hyunjin couldn't let go of him like this, it didn't feel right. Call him ludicrous, but Hyunjin was one who acted on his gut. "I have a better place for you. I promise."

<><><>

"Okay, I _know_ that I messed up and probably did something I shouldn't have, but can you blame me?" Hyunjin whined, falling face first on the table. He brought his gaze up with a pout. "Have you seen his little puppy eyes? Could you kick a puppy?"

"Hyunjin, you had one job!" Chan yelled out, stressfully managing the books on their shelves by setting them on alphabetical order. "Why did you leave him with Lee Minho? Lee 'all I do is sit inside and sulk all day' Minho!"

"Because it's crowded here!" the dark haired exclaimed, rubbing his temples as he watched the blond now color code them. That was one way to panic. "We don't need more staff up here, I like being able to see the floor!"

"Yes, alright," Chan muttered in reply, seeing how the boy had a point there. It was really full, with everyone bumping and crashing into each other because of the lack of space. He took a seat next to the younger, face stern. "I know you acted on feelings, but what are you going to do about Sunmi? She isn't to fond of you as it is, sorry."

The apology was a soft mutter, but Hyunjin knew that the elder was right. He didn't take it to heart any longer, because he knew the facts. "That'll make it easier for me to deal with, because I know I can't disappoint her any more than I already have."

"Why did you do it?" Chan asked, watching how the boy stiffened.

Hyunjin confidence deflated, suddenly realizing how rashly he had acted. Why did he do it? Because he was an idiot, that's what he believed. He dropped his head back on the desk with a groan, the wood sounding as hollow as his head felt. "Why, why, why must I be such an emotional wreck?!"

"It's not _always_ a bad trait to have," Chan mused, trying his best to sound optimistic before actually dropping the bomb. "In this case, however, you screwed up."

Hyunjin only groaned in response. "I'm going to die, again. They say you can't die twice, but watch me."

"It won't be that bad," the blond said, ruffling the younger's hair. "Try to remember, what exactly did she tell you to do?"

"' _Take him away'._ " A smirk carefully stretched out over his face, but he soon looked like a smug little devil. "Technically I did 'take him away'."

The familiar clicking of heels caused Hyunjin's face to pale as white as Chan's hair. He gulped when they stopped, sounding way too close for his liking. "And I'm going to take myself away," he stated hurriedly. Just as the doorknob turned he saluted like a soldier going out to his mission. "See you!" 

"Hyunjin?" Seungmin's voice was velvety, and Hyunjin immediately forgot about all the stress he'd had about him. He looked at the boy who was seated behind a desk that seemed too big for him, making him look so much smaller and a lot more vulnerable.

"How are you doing, Seungmin?" Hyunjin beamed, dusting off his clothes. Shoving away some documents — they didn't seem that important anyway — he sat on top of the desk with his legs crisscrossed. "Adapting?"

"I was kinda working on that?" he replied, though he sounded unsure. He stared at the stack of files in puzzlement. "Actually, I don't know what I'm doing and I think Minho is avoiding me. It's a little lonely, to be honest."

The taller puffed out his chest. "Then you, Kim Seungmin are in luck," he declared clearly. Already feeling the question coming from the younger — it seemed he did that a lot, asking questions — he pointed at himself confidently. "Because you have me to keep you company!"

"Amazing," the redhead deadpanned, though he was fighting a smile.

Hyunjin deflated, sprawling out over the table and almost knocking over, well, everything. Without tearing his gaze away from the elder, Seungmin caught the pens rolling off, eyes widening at his newfound ability.

"Do you take constructive criticism?" the dark haired inquired, rolling to his side, supporting his head with one hand. His legs were dangling over the side. Seungmin wished his boss wouldn't be coming back anytime soon; that would ruin any kind of impression he'd try to make.

"No," the younger stated. "Please get off the table, this is inappropriate. You're giving all the wrong signs."

Ignoring the boy's answer, Hyunjin rattled on, using expressive hand gestures. "Next time throw in some more enthusiasm, that would bring a smile to my face too," he told. His nose scrunched up. "Wait, what signs are you getting from this?"

"All the _wrong_ ones," Seungmin repeated, pushing the boy off the desk with rather much force. He clenched his eyes shut, waiting for the bang to sound so he could apologize. It never came.

"You know, I didn't take you as the rude type," the elder muttered, now floating above redhead — still laying horizontally, may I add.

Seungmin covered his mouth with one hand, wildly pointing at Hyunjin — or rather what was attached to Hyunjin's back — with the other. "You— Wings?"

"Oh," the dark haired let out, grinning bunglingly. "Yeah I forgot to tell you about that part."

"Right, cool," the younger murmured sourly, meagerly pouting as he scribbled on the papers. "What else? You can shape shift into a goldfish?"

The taller frowned, grimacing as he landed on a chair. On _Minho_ 's chair, to be exact. "Oddly specific question, but the answer is no. What I can do however, is this."

He made a swift motion with his hands, and suddenly Seungmin felt himself being pulled forward, right into Hyunjin's arms. "And you can too," Hyunjin added perkily, eyes crescents.

Seungmin felt his cheeks tinge red, firing up at the contact. "Right, cool," he murmured, eyes remaining unblinking as he stared at the other's face. It was a very pleasant face to look at, though he'd come back to life before he'd ever voice it out loud.

"Was that too much?" the dark haired inquired, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. "I'm sorry, I'm a touchy person."

"No, it's okay, I swear," the younger assured, his face as red as his hair. "I'm a little baffled by all this, I'm sorry."

"It's a lot, isn't it?" Hyunjin answered with a low chuckle. "I'm actually not that good with people, I don't really meet new people."

"Must be lonely," Seungmin uttered, patting the elder's shoulder with raised eyebrows.

"Kinda," the other admitted, lips breaking out into a grin, "but I've got you now, so it's alright!"

All Seungmin could do was smile, a genuine, non-awkward grin right from his heart. They were way too close, and anyone who'd walk in would get the wrong idea, but it was comforting. The silence, the staring, it got more bearable with each second passing.

"Hwang Hyunjin," a voice then spat, venom dripping off the owners tongue. "I will kick your ass to the afterlife if you don't make sure you're gone now."

"Bye, Seungmin," Hyunjin uttered loudly, hastily shooting up. "I'll be back tomorrow. Promise. And the day after tomorrow, and after that, and– you get the gist and I'll leave before Minho explodes."

After the boy had rushed out, Seungmin turned to his boss, who in fact did look as if his head could combust any moment. "In my chair, of all places."

The boy laughed, covering it with a cough when the male's glare hardened. "It's not what you think it is..."

<><><>

Hyunjin still remembered it as if it was yesterday that Seungmin was absolutely clueless about his powers and his existence in general, but it was moments like these that he'd realize it had already been over decades ago. Seungmin had flashed out of nowhere and taken him by the hand.

"Minho's out," the younger gave as explanation, before pulling the other in for a kiss and taking them away, back to his office.

Hyunjin had to smile, because yes, Seungmin had really mastered his abilities and the taller found himself enjoying every moment of it. "Fancy seeing you here," he spoke teasingly, pulling the boy onto his lap, stroking his hair affectionately.

"You know how empty it can get here," the redhead replied, mirroring his boyfriend's expression, "so I called you here."

"Am I a rebound?" the dark haired asked in mock hurt, dramatically crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm pained, I thought you cared about me. Excuse me while I go sit next to the cactus…"

"Stop pretending your life is a tragedy," Seungmin responded, fixing the elder's collar. "You know I can only sneak you here when Minho's gone."

"It's so great that he finally started... dating?" Hyunjin finished it off as a question; nobody knew exactly what was going on between Minho and that mortal. "What is the relationship they have?"

"It sure is one of a kind," Seungmin mused. "But I'm betting it's great, because I've never seem Minho smile that much in years."

"I knew this was the right thing to do all along," the angel commented, pushing the bangs out of the younger's eyes.

The redhead frowned. "What was?"

"Keeping you," Hyunjin whispered.

Seungmin seemed beyond confused, but decided to shrug it off. Hyunjin felt the warmth spread through him as he embraced the boy, the emotions he felt for this certain boy were unexplainable; it was innocent and pure and he couldn't imagine what it would have been like if Seungmin hadn't been there. And just as he'd promised, Hyunjin always came back to him.

꧁ꕥ꧂ꕥ꧁ꕥ꧂

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp and that's it!! thanks for reading this and i hope you enjoyed :)


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